*      ,    J 

/.''      J          ^    ./   ft 

1        *  f     * 

V^^. 

MEMOIR 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT, 


BORN    A    SLAVE 


ST.     DOMINGO. 


THE  AUTHOR  OP  "  THREE   EXPERIMENTS  IN  LIVISO,"  "  SKETCHES  OF  IH1 

LIVES  OF  THE  OLD  PAINTERS,"   "  FAMILIAR  SKETCHES   OF 

SCULPTURE  AND  SCULPTORS,"  ETC. 


THIRD     EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

CEOSBY,  NICHOLS,  AND   COMPANY, 

111   WASHINGTON  STREET. 

1854. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853,  by 

CROSBY,  NICHOLS,  AND  COMPANY, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


CAMBRIDGE: 
METCALF  AND  COMPANY,  STEREOTYPERS  AND  PRINTERS. 


o 


PART  FIRST 


THE  records  of  distinguished  characters  are 
1  multiplied  around  us  :  the  statesman  who  has 
$  toiled  night  and  day  for  his  country  is  held 

i 

]  in  grateful  remembrance  ;  —  the  hero  who  has 
^fought  for  the  land  of  his  home  and  people 
<  iustly  wins  the  laurels  that  are  showered  upon 


;  —  the  scholar  who  devotes  his  pen  to 
the  instruction  of  his  fellow-beings,  the  poet, 
and  the  historian  gradually  build  for  them- 
selves monuments.  But  there  is  one  class 
whose  silent  accumulation  of  good  deeds  is 
not  computed,  but  which  is  daily  increasing 
the  amount  of  human  happiness,  and  whose 
influence  is  like  that  of  the  crystal  stream 
which  wanders  through  the  meadow,  adding 
1 


2  MEMOIR   OF 

to  its  uncounted  portion  of  wild-flowers  and 
verdure.  Of  such  a  one  we  would  speak  in 
the  simple,  unexaggerated  language  which 
corresponds  to  the  subject  of  this  memoir. 

PIERRE  TOUSSAINT  was  born  in  the  island 
of  St.  Domingo,  in  the  town  of  St.  Mark,  on 
the  Plantation  de  Latibonite,  which  belonged 
to  Monsieur  Berard.  The  grandmother  of 
Toussaint,  Zenobe  Julien,  was  a  slave  in  the 
family,  and  selected  as  a  wet-nurse  for  the 
oldest  son.  This  maternal  office  she  also  per- 
formed for  his  sister. 

It  was  customary  in  the  West  Indies  for 
people  of  fortune  to  send  their  children 
abroad,  to  secure  to  them  better  influences 
than  they  could  obtain  on  a  plantation. 
Sometimes,  at  the  age  of  four  and  five  years, 
sons  and  daughters  were  separated  from  ten- 
der parents,  with  a  degree  of  heroic  sacrifice 
for  which  nothing  but  the  importance  of  the 
measure  could  give  their  parents  resolution. 

M.  Berard  early  decided  to  send  his  son  to 
Paris  to  be  educated ;  and  to  supply,  as  far  as 
possible,  the  tenderness  of  a  mother,  Zenobe 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  3 

Julien  was  selected  to  accompany  him,  and 
to  remain  with  him  several  months.  This 
proof  of  the  father's  confidence  in  the  bond- 
woman sufficiently  demonstrates  the  reliance 
which  both  parents  placed  on  her.  When  she 
returned  to  St.  Domingo,  it  was  to  conduct 
the  two  daughters  to  Paris,  who  were  to  be 
placed  at  a  boarding-school. 

On  leaving  them  there,  she  again  returned 
to  St.  Mark  and  resumed  her  attendance  on 
her  mistress.  The  parents  so  fully  estimated 
the  worth  of  this  faithful  domestic,  that,  as  a 
reward  for  her  fidelity  and  a  proof  of  their 
entire  confidence,  they  gave  her  her  freedom. 
They  well  knew  that  her  attachment  to  them 
formed  the  strongest  bonds.  John  Berard 
constantly  wrote  to  her  from  Paris,  sending 
her  presents,  and  retaining  his  early  affection. 

Zenobe  had  a  daughter  whom  she  called 
Ursule.  As  the  little  girl  increased  in  years, 
she  became  more  and  more  useful  to  Madame 
Berard,  and  was  finally  adopted  as  her  wait- 
ing-maid and/ewme  de  chambre. 

The  subject  of  our  memoir,  Pierre  Tous- 


4  MEMOIR    OF 

saint,  was  the  son  of  Ursule,  and  became  the 
pet  of  the  plantation,  winning  all  hearts  by 
his  playfulness  and  gentleness. 

His  grandmother,  Zenobe,  was  particularly 
attached  to  him ;  yet  when  Monsieur  and 
Madame  Berard  concluded  to  rejoin  their 
children  in  France,  and  called  on  Zenobe  to 
accompany  them,  she  did  not  hesitate  for  a 
moment,  but  gave  them  her  free  obedience, 
and  cheerfully  acceded  to  their  wishes ;  for 
they  no  longer  had  the  right  to  command. 
For  the  fifth  time  the  faithful  attendant 
crossed  the  ocean,  —  a  more  adventurous  and 
lengthened  voyage  than  now,  —  and  after  see- 
ing her  master  and  mistress  settled  in  Paris, 
returned  again  to  St.  Mark.  Here  she  had 
the  happiness  of  passing  the  evening  of  her 
life  in  the  service  of  her  nursling,  John  Berard, 
who  came  back  to  reside  on  his  father's  plan- 
tation after  he  had  completed  his  studies, 
leaving  his  two  sisters  with  his  parents. 

Pierre  Toussaint  was  born  before  the  elder 
Berard  quitted  the  country,  and  Aurora,  his 
youngest  daughter,  stood  godmother  to  the 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  5 

infant  slave.  She  was  a  mere  child,  and  he 
could  have  no  recollection  of  the  ceremony; 
but  as  he  grew  older,  he  became  more  and 
more  devoted  to  his  little  godmother,  fol- 
lowing her  footsteps,  gathering  for  her  the 
choicest  fruits  and  flowers,  and  weaving  ar- 
bors of  palms  and  magnolias.  Toussaint's 
happiness  was  much  increased  by  the  birth 
of  a  sister,  who  was  called  Rosalie. 

We  can  scarcely  imagine  a  more  beautiful 
family  picture ;  it  was  a  bond  of  trust  and 
kindness.  Slavery  with  them  was  but  a 
name. 

About  the  time  of  Pierre  Toussaint's  birth, 
1766,  and  several  years  later,  the  island  of  St. 
Domingo,  or  Hayti,  as  it  was  usually  called, 
was  in  its  most  flourishing  state.  The  French 
colony  was  then  at  the  height  of  its  prosper- 
ity. The  tide  of  improvement  had  swept  over 
the  land  ;  forests  had  been  cleared,  marshes 
drained,  bridges  built  over  rivers,  torrents 
converted  into  picturesque  waterfalls.  The 
harbors  were  made  safe  and  commodious,  so 
that  large  vessels  could  ride  at  anchor.  Beau- 


6  MEMOIR    OF 

tiful  villas  and  cottages  bordered  the  sea, 
while  palaces  and  magnificent  public  build- 
ings adorned  the  interior.  Hospitals  were 
built ;  fountains  refreshed  the  air.  Scarcely 
could  imagination  reach  the  luxury  of  this 
island,  which  seemed  to  contain  in  its  bosom 
the  choicest  treasures  of  nature.  Such  an 
earthly  paradise  could  not  fail  to  attract  for- 
eigners. The  French  were  proud  of  their  col- 
ony, and  it  became  a  fashion  with  them  to 
emigrate  to  the  island.  Some  settled  as 
planters,  others  passed  to  and  fro  at  their 
pleasure,  promoting  commerce,  good-will,  and 
the  arts  of  refinement. 

The  terrible  events  which  followed  this 
flourishing  era  are  too  painful  to  record ;  yet 
we  can  hardly  forbear  touching  upon  the  his- 
tory of  Toussaint  L'Ouverture,  though  bearing 
no  other  connection  with  the  subject  of  our 
memoir  than  accidentally  arises  from  similarity 
of  name,  color,  country,  and  being  both  born 
in  slavery,  and  on  the  same  river.  Toussaint 
L'Ouverture,  so  famous  in  history,  was  born  in 
1745,  about  twelve  years  before  Pierre  Tous- 


PIEERE    TOUSSAINT. 


saint,  but  had  arrived  at  mature  life  before  he 
became  conspicuous,  and  was  till  then  only 
distinguished  for  his  amiable  deportment,  his 
humanity,  and  the  purity  of  his  conduct.  His 
discriminating  master,  Comte  de  Noe,  early 
perceived  the  power  of  his  intellect,  and  had 
him  instructed  in  reading,  writing',  and  arith- 
metic; and  he  allowed  him  the  use  of  his 
'books,  from  which  he  culled  a  surprising 
amount  of  knowledge.  It  is  well  known, 
that,  in  the  insurrection  of  the  negroes,  he 
refused  all  participation,  until  he  had  effected 
the  escape  of  M.  Bayou  (to  whom  he  was 
coachman)  and  his  family  to  Baltimore,  ship- 
ping a  large  quantity  of  sugar  for  the  supply 
of  his  immediate  wants. 

The  subsequent  career  of  Toussaint  L'Ou- 
verture  was  a  noble  one.  His  superior  ca- 
pacity gave  him  complete  ascendency  over 
the  black  chieftains,  while  his  natural  endow- 
ments of  manner  and  person  inspired  respect 
and  deference,  and  enabled  him  to  keep  in 
check  their  wild  and  revengeful  passions. 

In  1797  Toussaint  L'Ouverture  received  a 


8  MEMOIR   OF 

commission  from  the  French  government  of 
commander-in-chief  over  the  armies  of  St. 
Domingo.  From  1798  until  1801  the  island 
continued  peaceable  and  tranquil  under  his 
sway.  His  measures  were  mild  and  prudent, 
but  his  discipline  was  strict.  In  1801,  when 
the  independence  of  Hayti  was  proclaimed,  he 
sent  his  two  sons  to  France  for  an  education. 
Bonaparte  sent  them  back  some  time  after, 
accompanied  by  Le  Clerc,  with  orders  not  to 
give  them  up,  but  to  retain  them  as  hostages, 
if  Toussaint  refused  to  abandon  his  country- 
men. With  a  magnanimity  that  equals  the 
records  of  ancient  history,  the  father  suffered 
them  to  return.  It  is  not  in  accordance  with 
our  present  plan  to  trace  the  dark  and  treach- 
erous snares  which  enveloped  him.  It  is  well 
known  that,  notwithstanding  the  most  solemn 
assurances  of  safety,  he  was  seized  and  con- 
veyed in  the  night  on  board  a  vessel,  and  trans- 
ported to  Brest.  After  imprisonment  in  the 
Chateau  de  Joux,  he  was  carried  to  Besan9on, 
and  confined  in  a  subterranean  prison,  where 
he  languished  in  cold  and  darkness  through 


PIERRE    TOI7SSAINT.  9 

the  winter,  —  he  who  had  been  reared  under 
the  tropical  sun  of  his  beloved  island !  —  and 
died  in  1803. 

The  treacherous,  cruel,  and  unjust  impris- 
onment of  Toussaint  drew  upon  Bonaparte 
severe  and  just  condemnation.  We  have  only 
to  study  the  closing  days  of  the  conqueror, 
and  to  see  him  "  chained  like  a  vulture  "  on 
the  rock  of  St.  Helena,  a  spectacle  for  the 
world,  to  turn  almost  with  envy  to  the  dark 
and  dreary  winter  prison  where  Toussaint 
ended  his  life,  heroically  and  without  one 
complaint ;  — 

"  That  dungeon-fortress  *  never  to  be  named, 
Where,  like  a  lion  taken  in  the  toils, 
Toussaint  breathed  out  his  brave  and  generous  spirit 
Ah,  little  did  he  think  who  sent  him  there, 
That  he  himself,  then  greatest  among  men, 
Should  in  like  manner  be  so  soon  conveyed 
Athwart  the  deep,  —  and  to  a  rock  so  small 
Amid  the  countless  multitude  of  waves, 
That  ships  have  gone  and  sought  it,  and  returned, 
Saying  it  was  not !  "  t 

*  The  Castle  of  Joux  in  Franche-Comte. 
t  Kogers's  "  Italy." 


10  MEMOIR   OF 

We  quit  this  melancholy  contemplation  for 
the  subject  of  our  memoir,  and  go  back  to  the 
happiest  period  of  Pierre  Toussaint's  life. 
John  Berard  successfully  cultivated  the  plan- 
tation, treading  in  his  father's  footsteps,  and 
with  patriarchal  care  exacting  a  due  propor- 
tion of  labor,  which  he  rewarded  with  kind- 
ness and  protection.  Wealth  flowed  in  upon 
him.  He  was  tenderly  attached  to  his  cousin, 
and  finally  married  her.  She  had  resided 
much  on  the  plantation,  and  partook  of  his 
attachment  to  the  slaves,  particularly  to  Ze- 
nobe  and  her  descendants. 

"  I  remember  her,"  said  Toussaint,  "  when 
the  bridal  took  place.  She  was  very  pale ;  her 
health  was  always  delicate,  but  she  looked 
so  lovely,  and  we  were  all  so  happy !  and  Ros- 
alie and  I  were  never  tired  of  gathering  flow- 
ers for  her,  and  we  used  to  dance  and  sing  for 
her  amusement."  In  one  year  after  her  mar- 
riage she  began  to  droop.  "  Ah ! "  said  Tous- 
saint, "  I  can  see  her  as  she  lay  upon  the 
couch,  panting  for  air,  —  all  so  beautiful,  out- 
side and  in ;  then  Rosalie  and  I  would  stand 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  11 

at  opposite  corners  of  the  room  and  pull  the 
strings  of  a  magnificent  fan  of  peacock's 
feathers,  swaying  it  to  and  fro,  and  we  would 
laugh  and  be  so  gay,  that  she  would  smile 
too ;  but  she  never  grew  strong,  —  she  grew 
Weaker." 

She  expressed  a  wish  to  go  to  Port-au- 
Prince  ;  —  probably  her  near  relations  resided 
there.  She  took  Toussaint  and  Rosalie  with 
her. 

About  this  time  the  troubles  in  St.  Domin- 
go began.  The  revolutionary  doctrines  of 
France  could  not  fail  to  influence  her  colo- 
nies. Hayti  looked  at  the  contest  for  liberty 
and  equality  with  the  keenest  interest.  The 
wealthy  proprietors  joined  in  the  universal 
cry.  But  they  had  no  idea  of  participating 
these  blessings  with  the  free-born  colored  peo- 
ple ;  they  still  meant  to  keep  them  in  a  subor- 
dinate state.  A  large  number  of  wealthy  and 
intelligent  merchants,  but  a  shade  or  two 
darker  than  their  aristocratical  brethren,  stout- 
ly contended  for  an  equal  share  in  adminis- 
tering the  affairs  of  the  colony,  and  claimed 


12  MEMOIR   OF 

their  right  of  representation,  of  sharing  in  the 
distribution  of  offices,  and  all  the  immunities 
of  free  and  independent  citizens.  This  was 
by  no  means  the  idea  of  the  nobility  of  St. 
Domingo ;  and  when  France  subsequently  es- 
poused the  cause  of  the  mulatto  free  popula- 
tion, and  when  the  Abbe  Gregoire  spoke  elo- 
quently for  them  in  the  National  Assembly, 
the  hatred  of  the  whites  knew  no  bounds.  As 
yet  only  private  attempts  at  annoyance  had 
arisen  on  both  sides ;  but  a  dark  storm  seemed 
threatening,  for  the  disaffected  had  talked  of 
offering  their  colony  to  the  English.  No 
fears  were  entertained  of  the  slaves  ;  they 
were  considered  as  machines  in  the  hands  of 
their  masters,  and,  without  principles,  wills, 
or  opinions  of  their  own,  they  were  neither 
dreaded  nor  suspected ;  and  so  the  contest 
seemed  to  be  between  the  nobility  and  the 
free  people  of  color. 

Monsieur  B6rard  willingly  consented  to  the 
change  his  young  wife  proposed  in  going  to 
Port-au-Prince,  hoping  she  might  derive  bene- 
fit from  it.  But  no  favorable  symptoms  oc- 


PIEEEE    TOUSSAINT.  13 

curred  ;  her  decline  was  rapid,  and  in  one 
short  month  from  her  arrival  she  breathed  her 
last,  in  her  twenty-first  year. 

Toussaint  and  Rosalie  returned  to  Latibo- 
nite  at  St.  Mark's.  It  was  most  touching  to 
listen  to  Toussaint's  description  of  his  young 
mistress,  as  he  saw  her  every  day  declining, 
yet  then  unconscious  that  he  should  soon  see 
her  no  more ! 

The  attachment  of  these  two  classes,  of 
mistress  and  slave,  might  almost  reconcile  us 
to  domestic  slavery,  if  we  only  selected  par- 
ticular instances.  But  without  suggesting 
whether  there  are  few  or  many  such,  we 
may  all  understand  the  danger  of  institutions 
which  leave  to  ignorant,  passionate  men  the 
uncontrolled  exercise  of  power.  It  is  not, 
however,  on  the  ground  of  individual  treat- 
ment that  the  philanthropist,  the  statesman, 
and  the  moralist  found  their  strongest  argu- 
ments against  slavery ;  it  is  on  the  eternal 
rights  of  man,  on  the  immutable  laws  of  God ; 
and  till  it  can  be  proved  that  the  negro  has 
no  soul,  we  cannot  plead  for  him  merely  on 


14  MEMOIR    OF 

the  score  of  humanity,  or  place  him  simply 
under  that  code  of  laws  which,  imperfectly  it 
is  true,  protects  the  noble  horse  from  abuse. 
It  was  for  his  divine  right  that  the  Abbe  Gre- 
goire  spoke  so  successfully. 

We  now  arrive  at  what  formed  the  great 
era  of  Pierre  Toussaint's  life.  He  had  hither- 
to lived  in  the  midst  of  luxury  and  splendor ; 
for  the  apartments  of  Monsieur  Berard,  as 
he  describes  them,  were  furnished  in  a  style 
of  expense  that  exceeded  even  modern  prodi- 
gality. All  the  utensils  of  his  mistress's 
chamber  were  of  silver  lined  with  gold ;  the 
dinner  service  was  of  the  same  metals.  In 
St.  Domingo,  the  tropical  climate  yielded  its 
abundant  fruits,  and  the  hardships  of  winter 
were  never  known. 

Monsieur  Berard  married  a  second  wife, 
and  still  all  was  successful  and  prosperous. 
But  this  was  not  long  to  last.  The  troubles 
had  now  begun.  He  earnestly  wished  to  pre- 
serve a  neutral  position ;  but  he  found  this 
impossible.  His  immense  property  became 
involved ;  his  perplexities  increased  in  various 


PIERRE    TOtfSSAINT.  ,      15 

ways ;  and  he  determined  to  quit  the  island, 
and  repair  to  the  United  States  to  pass  a  year, 
meaning  to  return  when  the  storm  was  over 
and  tranquillity  restored.  He  took  with  him 
five  servants,  including  Toussaint  and  his  sis- 
ter Rosalie. 

New  York  was  their  place  of  destination. 
Monsieur  Berard,  by  the  kindness  of  a  friend, 
found  a  house  ready  furnished,  of  which  they 
took  immediate  possession.  He  brought  suf- 
ficient funds  to  enable  them  to  live  in  good 
style  for  more  than  a  year.  Madame  Berard 
also  brought  over  her  sisters,  one  of  whom 
had  married  General  Dessource. 

They  formed  at  this  time  a  gay  and  united 
family,  with  plenty  of  society  and  amuse- 
ment. "  I  remember,"  said  a  lady  who 
was  well  acquainted  with  them,  "  Toussaint 
among  the  slaves,  dressed  in  a  red  jacket,  full 
of  spirits  and  very  fond  of  dancing  and  mu- 
sic, and  always  devoted  to  his  mistress,  who 
was  young,  gay,  and  planning  future  enjoy- 
ment." 

All  went  on   pleasantly  with  them  for  a 


16  MEMOIR    OF 

year;  but  intelligence  from  the  island  grew 
more  and  more  alarming,  and  M.  Berard 
thought  it  necessary  to  return  to  St.  Domin- 
go, to  look  after  his  affairs.  Previously  to  his 
going,  he  mentioned  to  Toussaint  that  he 
wished  him  to  learn  the  hair-dressing  busi- 
ness, and  a  Mr.  Merchant,  who  dressed  the 
hair  of  Madame  Be"rard,  engaged  to  teach 
him  for  fifty  dollars.  M.  Berard,  placing  the 
property  he  had  brought  over  to  this  country 
in  the  hands  of  two  respectable  merchants, 
took  leave  of  his  wife,  as  he  thought  for  a 
short  season.  In  the  mean  time,  she  remained 
tranquil  and  hopeful,  talking  over  her  plans  of 
living  with  Toussaint,  telling  him  her  projects 
for  the  time  to  come,  and  concerting  pleasant 
surprises  for  her  husband  when  he  should 
arrive.  She  was  much  pleased  with  Pierre's 
success  as  a  coiffeur,  and  said  how  gratified 
M.  Berard  would  be  to  find  he  had  succeeded 
so  well.  Those  who  have  known  Toussaint 
in  later  years  will  easily  comprehend  the 
manner  in  which  he  was  adopted  into  the 
confidence  of  his  employers  through  life.  His 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  17 

simple,  modest  deportment  disarmed  all  re- 
serve ;  he  was  frank,  judicious,  and  unobtru- 
sive. A  highly  cultivated  and  elegant  woman 
said,  "  Some  of  the  pleasantest  hours  I  pass 
are  in  conversing  with  Toussaint  while  he  is 
dressing  my  hair.  I  anticipate  it  as  a  daily 
recreation."  The  confidence  placed  in  him  by 
his  master  and  mistress  he  considered  a  sa- 
cred trust. 

Melancholy  letters  arrived  from  M.  Berard. 
His  property  was  irreclaimably  lost ;  and  he 
wrote  that  he  must  return,  and  make  the  most 
of  what  he  had  placed  at  New  York.  This 
letter  was  soon  followed  by  another,  an- 
nouncing his  sudden  death  by  pleurisy. 

Madame  Berard  had  not  recovered  from 
this  terrible  shock,  when  the  failure  of  the 
firm  in  New  York  to  whom  her  property  was 
intrusted,  left  her  destitute. 

"  Ah ! "  said  Toussaint,  "  it  was  a  sad  period 
for  my  poor  mistress ;  but  she  believed  —  we 
all  believed  —  that  she  would  recover  her 
property  in  the  West  Indies.  She  was  rich 
in  her  own  right,  as  well  as  her  husband's, 
2 


18  MEMOIR    OF 

and  we  said,  '  O  madam !  you  will  have 
enough.' " 

But  this  present  state  of  depression  was 
hard  indeed  to  one  who  had  always  lived  in 
luxury.  The  constant  application  for  debts 
unpaid  was  most  distressing  to  her;  but  she 
had  no  means  of  paying  them,  and  she  could 
only  beg  applicants  to  wait,  assuring  them 
that  she  should  eventually  have  ample  means. 

Toussaint  entered  into  all  her  feelings,  and 
shared  her  perplexities;  and  though  he  had 
scarcely  passed  boyhood,  he  began  a  series  of 
devoted  services. 

He  was  one  day  present  when  an  old  friend 
called  on  her,  and  presented  an  order  for  forty 
dollars,  thinking  her  husband  had  left  the 
money  with  her,  and  by  no  means  divining 
her  state  of  destitution.  She  assured  him  he 
should  have  the  money,  and  requested  him  to 
wait  a  short  time ;  she  considered  it  peculiarly 
a  debt  of  honor.  When  he  went  away,  she 
said  to  Toussaint,  "  Take  these  jewels  and 
dispose  of  them  for  the  most  you  can  get." 

He  took  them  with  an  aching  heart,  con- 


PIEERE   TOUSSAINT.  19 

trasting  in  his  own  mind  her  present  situation 
with  the  affluence  to  which  she  had  always 
been  accustomed.  He  had  by  industry  begun 
to  make  his  own  deposit ;  for,  as  a  slave,  he 
was  entitled  to  make  the  most  of  certain  por- 
tions of  his  time.  In  a  few  days  he  went  to 
his  mistress,  and  placed  in  her  hands  two 
packets,  one  containing  forty  dollars,  the  other 
her  own  valuable  jewels,  upon  which  the  sum 
was  to  have  been  raised.  We  may  imagine 
what  were  her  feelings  on  this  occasion ! 

At  another  time,  the  hair-dresser  of  whom 
Toussaint  had  learnt  his  trade  called  on  Ma- 
dame Berard  for  the  stipulated  sum.  Tous- 
saint heard  her  reply,  with  faltering  voice, 
"  It  was  not  in  her  power  to  pay  him ;  he 
must  wait."  Toussaint  followed  him  out,  and 
entered  into  an  engagement  to  pay  the  sum 
himself,  by  instalments,  and  at  length  received 
an  acquittal,  which  he  presented  to  his  mis- 
tress. She  was  at  first  alarmed,  and  said, 
"  O  Toussaint,  where  can  you  have  got  all 
this  money  to  pay  my  debts  !  "  "I  have  got 
some  customers,  Madame,"  said  he ;  "  they 


20  MEMOIR    OF 

are  not  very  fashionable,  but  Mr.  Merchant 
very  good, — he  lets  me  have  them;  and  be- 
sides, I  have  all  the  money  that  you  give  me, 
my  New  Year  presents,  —  I  have  saved  it  all." 
She  was  much  surprised,  and  told  him  she  did 
not  know  when  she  should  be  able  to  repay  it. 
He  told  her  it  was  all  hers,  that  he  never 
wanted  that  money  again ;  that  he  had  already 
good  customers,  and  expected  every  day  more 
and  more.  "My  poor  mistress,"  said  Tous- 
saint,  "  cry  very  much." 

From  this  time  he  considered  his  earnings 
as  belonging  to  Madame  Berard,  except  a 
small  deduction,  which  he  regularly  set  aside, 
since  he  had  a  purpose  to  execute  which  he 
communicated  to  no  one.  His  industry  was 
unceasing,  —  every  hour  of  the  day  was  em- 
ployed ;  when  released,  his  first  thought  was 
his  mistress,  to  hasten  home  and  try  to  cheer 
her. 

In  this  way  he  alleviated  the  burden  of  her 
troubles  ;  his  affectionate,  loving  heart  sympa- 
thized in  all  her  sorrows.  His  great  object 
was  to  serve  her.  He  was  perfectly  contented 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  21 

with  his  condition.  Though  surrounded  in 
New  York  by  free  men  of  his  own  color,  he 
said  that  he  was  born  a  slave,  —  God  had  thus 
cast  his  lot,  and  there  his  duty  lay. 

Two  of  Madame  Berard's  sisters  died,  and 
the  family  was  thus  broken  up.  A  gentleman 
from  St.  Domingo,  Monsieur  Nicolas,  who 
had  left  the  island  about  the  same  time  with 
the  Berard  family,  cherished  the  hope,  which 
many  entertained  for  years,  of  recovering  his 
property.  In  the  mean  time,  like  other  unfor- 
tunate emigrants,  he  found  himself  obliged  to 
convert  those  accomplishments  which  had 
made  a  part  of  his  education  to  the  means  of 
living.  For  some  time  he  performed  as  a  mu- 
sician in  the  orchestra  of  the  theatre,  and  gave 
lessons  in  music  to  a  number  of  scholars.  He 
was  a  constant  friend  of  Madame  Berard,  and 
they  at  length  married.  For  some  time  they 
were  sanguine  in  the  hope  of  returning  to  the 
island,  and  taking  possession  of  their  property, 
but  constant  disappointment  and  perpetual 
frustration  of  her  hopes  wore  upon  Madame 
Nicolas's  naturally  delicate  frame,  and  her 


22  MEMOIR   OF 

health  became  much  impaired.  Monsieur 
Nicolas  was  a  kind  and  tender  husband,  and 
did  all  in  his  power  to  alleviate  her  indispo- 
sition, and  administer  to  her  comfort. 

Toussaint,  in  the  mean  time,  was  industri- 
ously pursuing  his  business  as  a  hair-dresser, 
and  denying  himself  all  but  the  neat  apparel 
necessary  for  his  occupation,  never  appropri- 
ating the  smallest  sum  of  his  earnings  to  his 
own  amusement,  though  at  that  season  of 
youth  which  inclines  the  heart  to  gayety  and 
pleasure.  Belonging  to  a  race  proverbially 
full  of  glee,  and  while  on  the  island,  among 
his  sable  brethren,  first  in  the  dance  and  song, 
he  now  scrupulously  rejected  all  temptation 
for  spending  money,  and  devoted  his  time  to 
his  mistress.  "We  have  before  alluded  to  the 
care  with  which  he  hoarded  his  gains.  Be- 
sides the  pleasure  of  surprising  Madame  with 
little  delicacies,  he  had  evidently  another  ob- 
ject in  accumulating,  of  which  he  did  not 
speak.  He  was  successful,  and  took  a  re- 
spectable stand  as  a  hair-dresser.  His  earnings 
belonged  in  part  to  his  mistress ;  but  as  she 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  23 

grew  more  sick,  he  delighted  to  add  voluntarily 
the  portion  which  belonged  to  himself.  His 
sister  Rosalie  was  a  constant  and  faithful  at- 
tendant, but  Toussaint  was  both  a  companion 
and  friend.  Madame  Nicolas  had  an  affection 
of  the  throat,  and  was  obliged  to  write  rather 
than  converse ;  to  this  faithful  friend  she  used 
to  express  her  wants  on  little  scraps  of  paper, 
and  he  invariably  supplied  them,  while  she 
consoled  herself  with  the  idea  that  he  would 
be  fully  indemnified  eventually  from  her  own 
property.  He  had  no  such  belief ;  he  wished 
for  no  return.  In  later  years  he  said,  "  I  only 
asked  to  make  her  comfortable,  and  I  bless 
God  that  she  never  knew  a  want." 

He  strove  to  supply  her  with  the  luxuries 
of  her  tropical  climate,  —  grapes,  oranges, 
lemons,  and  bananas ;  he  regularly  procured 
jellies  and  ice-creams  from  the  best  confec- 
tioners, and  every  morning  went  to  market  to 
obtain  what  was  necessary  for  her  through 
the  day.  His  business  of  hair-dressing  proved 
very  lucrative,  and  kept  him  regularly  em- 
ployed. He  attended  one  lady  after  another, 


24  MEMOIR    OF 

in  constant  succession,  and  when  released 
from  his  duties  hastened  to  render  new  ser- 
vices to  his  invalid  mistress.  She  felt  that 
influence  which  a  strong  and  virtuous  mind 
imparts,  and  communicated  to  him  her  per- 
plexities. He  often  read  to  her,  and,  adds 
one  of  his  most  cherished  and  faithful  friends,* 
"  Perhaps  this  scene,  so  touching  to  his  feel- 
ings and  elevating  to  his  heart,  in  contem- 
plating a  being  honored  and  beloved,  gradu- 
ally wasting  away,  may  have  been  the  foun- 
dation of  that  piety  which  has  sustained  him 
through  life,  and  become  deeply  seated  in  his 
breast.  He  is  a  Catholic,  full  in  the  faith  of 
his  Church,  liberal,  enlightened,  and  always 
acting  from  the  principle  that  God  is  our 
common  Father,  and  mankind  our  brethren." 
Toussaint  seemed  to  understand  the  consti- 
tution of  Madame  Nicolas's  mind  ;  he  reflect- 
ed that  she  had  always  been  accustomed  to 

*  Mrs.  Philip  J.  Schuyler,  whose  death  took  place  in  1852, 
preceding  Toussaint's  about  fifteen  months.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  Micajah  Sawyer,  M.  D.,  of  Newburyport.  To  her 
notes  the  author  of  this  memorial  is  principally  indebted. 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  25 

society,  and  that  the  excitement  of  it  was  ne- 
cessary for  her.  "  I  knew  her,"  said  he,  "  full 
of  life  and  gayety,  richly  dressed,  and  entering 
into  amusements  with  animation;  now  the 
scene  was  so  changed,  and  it  was  so  sad  to 
me !  Sometimes,  when  an  invitation  came,  I 
would  succeed  in  persuading  her  to  accept  of 
it,  and  I  would  come  in  the  evening  to  dress 
her  hair ;  then  I  contrived  a  little  surprise  for 
her.  When  I  had  finished,  I  would  present 
her  the  glass,  and  say :  '  Madame,  see  how 
you  like  it.'  O,  how  pleased  she  was !  I 
had  placed  in  it  some  beautiful  flower,  —  per- 
haps a  japonica,  perhaps  a  rose,  remarkable 
for  its  rare  species,  which  I  had  purchased  at 
a  greenhouse,  and  concealed  till  the  time  ar- 
rived." Sometimes,  wtien  he  saw  her  much 
depressed,  he  would  persuade  her  to  invite  a 
few  friends  for  the  evening,  and  let  him  carry 
her  invitations.  "When  the  evening  arrived, 
he  was  there,  dressed  in  the  most  neat  and 
proper  manner,  to  attend  upon  the  company ; 
and  he  was  sure  to  surprise  her  by  adding  to 
her  frugal  entertainment  ice-cream  and  cakes. 


26  MEMOIR   OF 

It  appeared  his  great  study  to  shield  her  from 
despondency,  —  to  supply  as  far  as  possible 
those  objects  of  taste  to  which  she  had  been 
accustomed.  In  this  constant  and  uniform 
system,  there  was  something  far  beyond  the 
devotion  of  an  affectionate  slave ;  it  seemed 
to  partake  of  a  knowledge  of  the  human 
mind,  an  intuitive  perception  of  the  wants  of 
the  soul,  which  arose  from  his  own  finely  or- 
ganized nature.  In  endeavoring  to  procure 
for  her  little  offerings  of  taste  to  which  she 
had  been  accustomed,  he  was  unwearied :  not 
because  they  had  any  specific  value  for  him- 
self, but  simply  for  the  pleasure  they  gave  to 
her.  All  he  could  spare  from  his  necessary 
wants,  and  from  the  sum  which  he  was  en- 
deavoring to  accumulate,  and  to  which  we 
have  before  alluded,  was  devoted  to  his  mis- 
tress. "  Yet  one  rule,"  said  he,  "  I  made  to 
myself,  and  I  have  never  departed  from  it 
through  life,  —  that  of  not  incurring  a  debt, 
and  scrupulously  paying  on  the  spot  for  every 
thing  I  purchased." 

But  not  all  this  affectionate  solicitude,  nor 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  27 

the  cares  of  a  kind  husband,  for  such  was 
Monsieur  Nicolas,  could  stay  the  approach  of 
death.  Her  strength  rapidly  declined,  and 
every  day  Toussaint  perceived  a  change.  At 
length  she  was  confined  to  her  bed.  One  day 
she  said  to  him,  "  My  dear  Toussaint,  I  thank 
you  for  all  you  have  done  for  me ;  I  cannot 
reward  you,  but  God  will."  He  replied, 
"  O  Madame !  I  have  only  done  my  duty." 
"  You  have  done  much  more,"  said  she  ;  "  you 
have  been  every  thing  to  me.  There  is  no 
earthly  remuneration  for  such  services." 

A  few  days  before  her  death,  she  called 
Toussaint  to  her  bedside,  and,  giving  him  her 
miniature,  told  him  she  must  execute  a  paper 
that  would  secure  to  him  his  freedom.  Mon- 
sieur Nicolas,  who  was  present,  said,  "  Save 
yourself  this  exertion,  —  every  thing  you  wish 
shall  be  done."  She  shook  her  head,  and  re- 
plied, "  It  must  be  done  now" 

Her  nurse  from  infancy,  Marie  Boucman, 
had  accompanied  her  mistress  to  New  York. 
She  was  aunt  to  Toussaint.  Free  papers 
were  given  to  this  faithful  domestic  by  Ma- 


28  MEMOIR   OF 

dame  Berard  and  her  sisters  in  St.  Domingo, 
in  which  we  find  this  sentence :  "  We  give 
her  her  freedom  in  recompense  for  the  attach- 
ment she  has  shown  us,  since  the  troubles 
which  afflict  St.  Domingo,  and  release  her 
from  all  service  due  to  us." 

This  woman,  whom  she  tenderly  loved,  she 
committed  to  Toussaint's  care  in  a  most 
touching  manner.  "  As  you  love  my  mem- 
ory," said  she,  "  never  forsake  her :  if  you 
should  ever  quit  the  country,  let  her  go  with 
you." 

The  deed  was  legally  executed  which  se- 
cured to  Toussaint  his  freedom,  and  which 
she  had.  strength  to  sign.  She  then  desired 
him  to  bring  a  priest,  made  her  confession, 
received  her  last  communion,  and  died  at  the 
age  of  thirty-two. 

She  was  a  most  gentle,  affectionate  woman, 
and  deeply  attached  to  those  around  her.  We 
think  a  letter  of  hers,  addressed  to  her  negro 
nurse,  will  not  be  uninteresting  in  this  connec- 
tion. It  appears  that  Marie,  after  seeing  her 
mistress  safely  settled  in  New  York,  returned 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  29 

again  to  see  her  family,  as  among  Toussaint's 
papers  the  following  letter  is  found  from  Ma- 
dame Nicolas :  — 

"New  York. 

"  How,  my  dear  Marie !  is  this  the  way  you 
keep  your  promise  ?  You  told  me  you  would 
write  to  me  as  soon  as  you  reached  the  Cape. 
Every  one  has  written,  but  I  find  no  little  note 
from  you.  Have  you  forgotten  me,  my  dear 
Memin  ?  This  thought  makes  me  too  sad.  I 
was  sorry  to  part  with  you,  but  I  would  not 
tell  you  all  I  felt,  lest  you  should  have  changed 
your  mind,  and  passed  the  cold  winter  here. 
So  now  you  are  at  the  Cape. 

"  I  hear  you  reached  there  after  a  voyage  of 
thirty  days.  Were  you  ill,  my  dear  Memin  ? 
How  are  you  now  ?  I  am  impatient  to  hear 
from  you.  Tell  me  news  of  your  children. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  this  last  intelligence,  we 
should  by  this  time  have  been  at  the  Cape  ; 
as  soon  as  the  French  troops  arrive,  we  shall 
return.  If  you  are  not  well  off,  come  back  to 
me,  and  we  will  all  go  to  St.  Domingo  to- 
gether. You  know  that  you  are  a  second 


30  MEMOIR   OF   PIERRE    TOUSSAINT. 

mother  to  me ;  you  have  filled  the  place  of 
one.  I  shall  never  forget  all  you  have  done 
for  my  poor  sisters,  and  if  efforts  could  have 
saved  any  one,  I  should  now  have  them  all. 
But  God  has  so  ordered  it,  and  his  will  be 
done!  Ah,  dear  Memin,  your  religion  will 
support  you  under  all  your  sufferings,  —  never 
abandon  it ! 

Adieu!  Write  me  soon,  or  I  shall  think 
you  do  not  love  me  any  longer. 

"  I  am,  always,  as  you  used  to  call  me,  your 

"  BONT£." 

The  little  fancy  names  of  endearment  were 
peculiar  to  the  West  Indian  mistresses  and 
slaves.  Marie  Boucman  returned  again  to 
New  York. 


PAET    SECOND. 


AFTER  the  death  of  Madame  Nicolas, 
Toussaint  remained  with  her  husband.  M. 
Nicolas  lived  on  the  first  floor  of  a  house, 
with  one  servant,  who  was  his  cook;  and 
Toussaint  continued  to  go  to  market  for  him, 
and  to  perform  many  gratuitous  services.  In 
this  manner  they  resided  together  for  four 
years,  in  Reed  Street. 

Marie  Boucman  had  also  a  room  on  the 
same  floor  of  the  house,  and  supported  her- 
self by  her  industry. 

Rosalie,  who  was  still  a  slave,  was  engaged 
to  be  married,  and  Toussaint  at  once  put  into 
execution  the  project  he  had  long  contem- 
plated, and  for  which  he  had  been  accumulat- 


32  MEMOIR   OF 

ing  the  needful  money  by  degrees.  This  was 
the  purchase  of  his  sister's  freedom.  Of  his 
own  freedom  he  never  seems  to  have  thought, 
but  it  was  all-important  to  him  that  Rosalie 
should  enter  life  under  the  same  advantages 
as  her  husband  and  those  around  her.  With 
a  delicacy  for  which  he  was  always  remark- 
able, he  never  mentioned  this  subject  to 
Madame  Nicolas,  though  we  cannot  but 
think  that  she  would  at  once  have  bestowed 
it  without  price.  Probably  the  subject  never 
occurred  to  her. 

Toussaint  paid  his  sister's  ransom,  and  she 
was  soon  married.  He  had  now  time  to 
think  of  himself.  He  had  formed  an  attach- 
ment for  Juliette  Noel,  and  they  were  married 
in  1811,  and  continued  to  live  in  the  same 
house  with  Monsieur  Nicolas,  having  two 
rooms  in  the  third  story. 

At  the  end  of  four  years  M.  Nicolas  left 
New  York  for  the  South,  and  a  constant 
interchange  of  letters  and  kind  offices  on 
Toussaint's  part  took  place,  continuing  till 
the  death  of  M.  Nicolas.  The  following 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  33 

extract  from  a  letter  of  M.  Nicolas  to  Tous- 
saint,  written  long  after,  will  show  how  high- 
ly this  gentleman  respected  and  appreciated 
him :  — 

"July,  1829. 

"  I  have  received  your  letter,  my  dear  Tous- 
saint, and  share  very  deeply  the  sorrow  which 
the  loss  of  your  niece  must  bring  upon  you. 
No  one  knows  better  than  I,  how  much  you 
were  attached  to  her;  however,  as  you  say 
very  truly,  we  must  resign  ourselves  to  the 
will  of  God.  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  Juliette 
has  been  ill,  and  hope  that  your  next  letter 
will  speak  of  her  reestablished  health.  I 
have  not  written  to  you  for  a  long  time,  my 
dear  Toussaint,  —  not  that  I  do  not  think  of 
you,  or  that  I  love  you  less,  but  I  was 
troubled  because  I  was  not  able  to  send  you 
any  thing  ;  however,  I  know  your  heart,  and 
feel  quite  sure  you  will  not  impute  this  delay 
to  want  of  inclination.  You  have  no  idea 
how  unhappy  I  am  when  I  cannot  meet  little 
debts.  But,  my  dear  Toussaint.  I  fail  every 
day ;  I  am  at  least  ten  years  older  than  when 
,3 


34  MEMOIR  OF 

I  last  saw  you.  Both  courage  and  strength 
begin  to  fail,  and  add  to  all  this,  that  I  do  not 
hear  a  word  from  France  about  our  claims. 
You  can  understand  my  sad  situation ;  but  a 
few  years  longer  will  put  an  end  to  my 
misery.  However,  I  do  not  despair  to  see 
you  again  before  I  pay  the  debt  to  Nature. 
In  the  mean  time  think  of  me,  write  to  me, 
and  be  assured  that  you  will  always  find  me 

vour  true  friend, 

«G.  NICOLAS." 

A  period  of  prosperity  seemed  now  to  have 
dawned  on  the  faithful  Toussaint.  He  was 
happy  in  his  conjugal  connection.  Juliette 
was  of  a  gay,  cheerful  disposition,  and  fully 
estimated  the  worth  of  her  husband.  Indeed, 
how  could  it  be  otherwise?  She  saw  him 
universally  respected,  and  treated  as  a  friend 
by  every  one.  As  a  hair-dresser  for  ladies,  he 
was  unrivalled :  he  was  the  fashionable  coiffeur 
of  the  day ;  he  had  all  the  custom  and  pat- 
ronage of  the  French  families  in  New  York. 
Many  of  the  most  distinguished  ladies  of  the 
city  employed  him  ;  we  might  mention  not  a 
few  who  treated  him  as  a  particular  friend. 


PIERRE   TOTJSSAINT.  35 

A  pleasant  novel,  said  to  be  written  by  a 
Southern  lady,  but  published  in  New  York, 
"  The  Echoes  of  a  Belle,"  gives  a  graphic 
description  of  Toussaint  as  a  hair-dresser: 
"  He  entered  with  his  good  tempered  face, 
small  ear-rings,  and  white  teeth,  a  snowy 
apron  attached  to  his  shoulders  and  envelop- 
ing his  tall  figure." 

He  went  continually  from  house  to  house 
performing  the  office  of  hairdresser,  and  was 
considered  quite  as  a  friend  among  the  fair 
ladies  who  employed  him.  They  talked  to 
him  of  their  affairs,  and  felt  the  most  perfect 
reliance  upon  his  prudence ;  and  well  they 
might,  for  never  in  this  large  circle  was  he 
known  to  give  cause  for  an  unpleasant  re- 
mark. Once  a  lady,  whose  curiosity  was 
stronger  than  her  sense  of  propriety,  closely 
urged  him  to  make  some  communication 
about  another  person's  affairs.  "  Do  tell  me, 
Toussaint,"  said  she,  "  I  am  sure  you  know 
all  about  it."  "  Madam,"  he  replied  with  dig- 
nity, though  with  the  utmost  respect,  "  Tous- 
saint dresses  hair,  he  no  news  journal." 


MEMOIR  OF 


At  another  time  he  was  requested  to  carry 
a  disagreeable  message.  He  immediately  an- 
swered, "  I  have  no  memory." 

Toussaint  had  delayed  his  marriage  with 
Juliette,  till  he  saw  his  sister  Rosalie,  as  he 
believed,  well  settled  in  life,  and  mistress  of 
her  own  freedom ;  but  all  his  affectionate 
endeavors  could  not  secure  to  her  the  happi- 
ness he  had  so  fondly  anticipated. 

In  1815  Rosalie  had  a  daughter  born, 
but  her  prospects  had  been  cruelly  frus- 
trated; her  husband  proved  idle  and  dissi- 
pated, and  Toussaint  almost  entirely  sup- 
ported her.  The  little  infant  was  named 
Euphemia  by  her  uncle,  but  the  mother's 
health  rapidly  declined.  Dr.  Berger  was  her 
able  and  humane  physician;  he  pronounced 
her  in  a  decline.  Juliette  took  home  the 
infant  of  six  months  old,  and  brought  her  up 
by  hand.  Very  soon  the  mother  was  re- 
moved to  Toussaint's  roof,  and,  after  linger- 
ing a  few  months,  breathed  her  last.  Pre- 
viously to  this  event,  Marie  Boucman  had 
died,  carefully  watched  over  by  Toussaint, 


PIERRE   TOTJSSAINT.  37 

who  considered  her  as  a  legacy  bequeathed  to 
him  by  his  mistress". 

Euphemia  was  a  sickly,  feeble  child.  Dr. 
Berger  did  not  give  much  encouragement 
that  she  would  live ;  but  Toussaint,  who  was 
always  sanguine,  fully  believed  that  her  life 
would  be  granted  to  them.  Both  his  and 
Juliette's  assiduity  was  unremitting  for  her ; 
no  parents  could  have  done  more.  Every 
day  Toussaint  took  the  feeble  little  creature 
in  his  arms,  and  carried  her  to  the  Park,  to 
the  Battery,  to  every  airy  and  pleasant  spot 
where  the  fresh  breezes  sent  invigorating 
influence,  hoping  to  strengthen  her  frame  and 
enable  her  lungs  to  gain  a  freer  respiration. 
The  first  year  of  her  life  was  one  of  con- 
stant struggle  for  existence,  but  God  blessed 
their  untiring  efforts,  and  the  frail  plant  took 
root  and  flourished. 

An  incident  occurred  in  Toussaint's  life 
about  this  time,  which  deeply  interested  him. 
He  was  summoned  to  the  City  Hotel  to  dress 
the  hair  of  a  French  lady,  who  was  a 
stranger.  She  could  speak  no  English,  and 

338484 


38  MEMOIR  OF 

therefore  was  very  glad  to  converse  with  him 
in  her  native  language.  She  spoke  to  him  of 
her  lonely  feelings,  and  of  her  painful  separa- 
tion from  a  dear  friend,  who  was  now  in  Paris. 
Toussaint  told  her  there  were  many  agree- 
able French  families  in  New  York.  "  Yes," 
she  said,  "  she  had  letters  to  a  number,  but  no 
one  could  supply  the  place  of  her  Aurora 
Berard." 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  heard  his 
godmother's  name  mentioned  for  many  years. 
Could  it  be  her  of  whom  the  lady  spoke  ? 
A  few  inquiries  settled  the  matter;  it  was 
indeed  the  same,  —  she  who  in  the  hap- 
py period  of  his  infancy  had  stood  sponsor 
at  the  baptismal  font,  who  had  sometimes 
visited  his  dreams,  but  of  whose  very  exist- 
ence he  was  doubtful.  How  many  touching 
recollections  arose  to  his  mind!  Again  the 
palmy  groves  of  his  beautiful  native  isle 
were  before  him;  again  he  was  gathering 
fruits  and  flowers  for  his  little  godmother,  and 
performing  a  thousand  antic  sports  for  her 
amusement.  But  such  delusions  are  momen- 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  39 

tary ;  he  was  once  more  Toussaint  the  hair- 
dresser, and  hastened  back  to  communicate 
this  delightful  surprise  to  his  faithful  Juliette. 
The  lady  was  soon  to  leave  the  city  and  re- 
turn to  Paris ;  he  wrote  to  Aurora  by  her,  but 
from  some  unfortunate  mistake,  when  he  car- 
ried his  letter  she  had  sailed. 

His  disappointment  was  great,  but  in  three 
months  afterwards  he  received  the  following 
letter  from  Aurora,  saying  she  had  heard  of 
him  through  her  friend,  and  expressing  her 
affection  for  his  grandmother  and  mother, 
and  her  kind  interest  in  him. 

"  A.  MONSIEUR  TOUSSAINT,  Coiffeur* 

"Paris,  November  27,  1815. 

"  Madame  Brochet,  on  her  return  to  this  city, 
fifteen  days  since,  has  given  me  intelligence 
of  you,  my  dear  godson.  I,  as  well  as  my 
brothers  and  sisters,  am  truly  grateful  for  the 
zeal  that  you  manifested  in  wishing  to  learn 

*  It  is  but  justice  to  observe,  that  all  the  original  letters  in 
this  volume  addressed,  to  Tonssaint  are  translations  from  the 
French. 


40  MEMOIR  OF 

something  of  us,  and  for  the  attachment 
which  you  still  feel  for  us  all.  After  the  infor- 
mation that  Madame  Brochet  gave  me,  I  can- 
not doubt  that  you  will  be  glad  to  receive  a  let- 
ter from  me.  I  write  to  you  with  pleasure,  and 
I  have  felt  much  in  learning  that  you  are 
prosperous  in  your  affairs,  and  very  happy. 
As  to  us,  my  dear  Toussaint,  we  have  never 
quitted  Paris.  Our  situation  is  not  happy. 
The  Revolution  deprived  us  of  all  our  prop- 
erty. My  father  was  one  of  the  victims  of 
that  frightful  period.  After  being  confined 
six  weeks  in  prison,  and  under  constant  in- 
spection of  the  government,  on  their  own 
place,  near  Paris,  both  he  and  my  mother 
died  of  grief.  My  brothers  and  sisters  are 
married,  but  I  am  not,  and  am  obliged  to 
make  exertions  to  live  which  have  impaired 
my  health,  which  is  now  very  poor.  Were 
it  not  for  that,  I  might  be  tempted  to  ac- 
complish the  voyage  you  desire ;  but  I  am 
not  the  less  sensible  to  the  offers  you  make 
me,  through  Madame  Brochet,  and  I  thank  you 
sincerely.  It  is  consoling  to  me  to  know, 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  41 

amidst  all  my  troubles,  that  there  exists  one 
being  who  is  so  much  attached  to  me  as  you 
are.  I  wish  we  could  live  in  the  same  town, 
that  I  might  give  you  details  by  word  of 
mouth  about  my  family.  [Here  follows  a 
short  account  of  her  brothers  and  sisters  and 
their  children.] 

"  Write  to  me,  my  dear  Toussaint,  about 
your  wife ;  I  know  you  have  no  children.  Do 
you  know  any  thing  relating  to  St.  Domingo  ? 
What  has  become  of  all  our  possessions,  and 
our  ancient  servants  ?  Tell  me  all  you  know 
about  them.  Have  you  any  of  your  former 
companions  in  your  city  ?  My  nurse  Made- 
laine  and  your  mother,  are  they  still  living  ? 
Tell  me  every  thing  you  know.  Adieu,  my 
dear  godson.  Do  not  forget  to  write  to  me, 
and  depend  upon  the  affection  of  your  god- 
mother, who  has  never  forgotten  you,  and  who 
loves  you  more  than  ever,  since  she  finds  you 
have  always  preserved  your  attachment  to 
"AURORA  BERARD." 

This     letter    Toussaint     immediately    an- 
swered,   and    accompanied    it    by  a    dozen 


42  MEMOIR   OF 

Madras  handkerchiefs.  The  French  ladies 
highly  prized  this  article,  for  at  that  time  they 
were  considered  a  most  tasteful  and  fashiona- 
ble head-dress.  Juliette  always  wore  them, 
and  was  often  asked  to  teach  ladies  to  fold 
them,  and  give  them  the  graceful  and  pic- 
turesque air  which  she  gave  to  her  own. 
From  this  time  letters  were  frequently  ex- 
changed between  Aurora  and  her  affection- 
ate godson.  He  sent  her  Canton  crape  dress- 
es, and  other  articles  which  were  of  great 
price  in  France,  and  all  of  the  best  quality. 
These  presents  she  gratefully  acknowledged, 
but  there  is  a  very  natural  fear  expressed  that 
he  has  sent  too  expensive  ones.  In  alluding 
to  the  crape  dresses,  she  writes :  "  To  judge 
from  the  dearness  of  the  articles  here,  I  fear 
you  may  have  made  some  sacrifice  to  pur- 
chase them,  and  this  idea  gives  me  pain." 

Soon  after  the  letter  sent  by  Aurora,  Tous- 
saint  received  the  following  from  Monsieur 
Berard,  the  brother  of  Aurora  :  — 

"Paris,  1815. 

"  I  have  learned  with  pleasure  and  grati- 


PIERRE    TOITSSAINT.  43 

tnde,  my  dear  Toussaint,  all  that  you  have 
done  for  my  brother  Berard  and  his  widow, 
and  the  attachment  you  still  entertain  for  our 
family.  Since  I  have  known  all  this,  I  have 
wished  to  write  to  you,  and  express  the  love  and 
esteem  I  feel  for  you.  It  is  from  Mesdames 

D ,  R ,  and  C ,  I  have  received 

these  details.  I  was  so  young  when  I  left  St. 
Domingo,  that  I  should  certainly  not  recognize 
your  features,  but  I  am  sure  my  heart  would 
acknowledge  you  at  once,  so  much  am  I 
touched  with  your  noble '  conduct.  All  my 
family  share  these  feelings,  but  more  particu- 
larly my  sister  Aurora.  I  do  not  despair  of 
returning  to  St.  Domingo,  and  of  finding  you 
there,  or  in  the  United  States,  if  I  take  that 
route. 

"  Adieu,  my  dear  Toussaint.  Give  me 
news  of  yourself,  and  believe  in  my  sincere 

friendship. 

"BERARD  DU  PITHON." 

This  renewal  of  his  early  intercourse  with 
the  Berard  family  was  a  source  of  great  hap- 
piness to  Toussaint.  We  regret  that  none  of 


44  MEMOIR   OF 

his  letters  to  his  godmother  remain ;  but  hers 
sufficiently  prove  the  affection  on  both  sides. 
He  even  proposed  removing  to  Paris  with 
Juliette,  and  consults  her  on  the  eligibility  of 
such  a  step.  Her  answer,  an  extract  from 
which  is  here  given,  is  most  kind,  considerate, 
and  disinterested.  His  wish  is  evidently  to 
support  her,  as  he  had  his  mistress,  by  his 
own  industry. 

"Paris,  December  1,  1818. 

"  I  have  seen  Mr.  S to-day.  This  gen- 
tleman appears  to  be  much  attached  to  you, 
which  gives  me  great  pleasure.  We  talked 
together  of  your  wish  to  come  to  France.  If 
I  only  consulted  my  own  desire  to  see  you,  I 
should  say,  come  at  once ;  but  your  happiness, 
my  dear  godson,  is  what  I  think  of  above  all 
things,  and  since  every  one'  from  New  York 
tells  me  that  you  are  happy,  highly  esteemed, 
and  much  beloved  by  most  respectable  per- 
sons there,  would  you  be  as  well  off  here? 
Those  who  know  your  resources  better  than  I 
can,  may  advise  you  with  more  confidence.  If 
I  were  rich,  this  would  be  of  little  consequence. 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  45 

I  should  call  you  near  to  me,  for  I  should  be 
too  happy  to  have  a  person  to  whom  I  could 
give  all  my  confidence,  and  of  whose  attach- 
ment I  should  feel  certain.  This  would  be 
too  desirable  for  me,  not  to  ask  you  to  come  ; 
but  my  position  is  a  sad  one.  I  could  not  be 
useful  to  you,  and  I  fear  you  would  not  be  so 
happy  as  you  deserve.  I  speak  to  you  like  a 
mother,  for  be  assured  that  your  godmother 
would  be  most  happy  to  see  you.  Although  I 
have  not  seen  you  since  my  childhood,  I  love 
you  like  a  second  mother,  and  I  can  never 
forget  the  services  you  have  rendered  to  my 
brother  and  his  wife.  My  brothers  and  sisters 
share  these  feelings,  and  we  never  speak  of 
you  without  emotion." 

The  following  is  from  another  letter  of 
Mademoiselle  Berard,  of  a  little  later  date :  — 

"  Your  friends  have  not  left  me  ignorant  of 
all  the  good  you  do,  and  that  you  are  the 
support  of  the  colored  women  of  our  planta- 
tion. You  must  induce  them  to  work,  for 
you  should  not  give  away  all  your  earnings; 
You  must  think  of  yourself,  of  your  wife,  and 


46  MEMOIR  OF 

niece,  whom  you  look  upon  as  a  daughter. 
I  hear  that  Hortense  is  with  you ;  she  be- 
longed to  me,  and  must  be  young  enough  to 
work  and  support  herself.  You  will  do  her  a 
service  if  you  induce  her  to  work  ;  tell  her  so 
from  me.  It  gives  me  pain  to  find  that  you 
are  still  without  news  of  your  family ;  here  we 
know  nothing.  Let  us  trust  in  Providence. 
Your  feelings  of  piety  make  me  believe  that 
God  is  also  your  consolation ;  you  are  right, 
and  the  assurance  that  every  one  expresses  of 
your  religious  character  gives  me  great  pleas- 
ure. I  feel  deeply,  my  dear  godson,  all  that 
you  tell  me  of  your  desire  to  see  me,  and  to 
serve  me.  I  understand  your  noble  feelings. 
Your  attachment  adds  much  to  my  happiness, 
for  there  are  so  few  persons  in  the  world  who 
resemble  you,  that  I  appreciate  you  as  you 
deserve." 

This  pleasant  intercourse  continued  for 
many  years.  At  length  the  following  letter 
came :  — 

"July  28,  1834. 

"  You  are  already  in  sorrow,  my  dear  Tous- 


PIERRE    TOT7SSAINT.  47 

saint,  and  the  sad  news  I  must  announce  to 
you  will  only  augment  it.  Two  months  have 
passed  since  your  beloved  godmother  was 
taken  from  us  by  sudden  death.  My  heart  is 
so  deeply  oppressed  by  this  affliction,  that  I 
can  scarcely  write.  A  few  days  before  her 
death  she  spoke  of  you ;  she  wished  to  write 
to  you,  being  very  anxious  at  not  having 
heard  from  you  for  a  long  time.  What  pleas- 
ure she  would  have  experienced  in  receiving 
your  last  letter,  which  arrived  about  fifteen 
days  since !  The  news  I  send  to  you  will  be 
sad,  but  you  may  be  assured  of  the  affection 
that  every  member  of  our  family  feels  for 
you,  and  myself  in  particular.  My  dear 
Toussaint,  it  will  be  a  great  pleasure  to  hear 
from  you.  I  hope  that  Divine  Providence 
will  mitigate  the  painful  remembrance  of 
your  adopted  niece.  Man  can  offer  only 
words,  but  God,  who  sends  the  affliction,  can 
diffuse  into  our  souls  all  necessary  fortitude. 
May  you  have  recourse  to  the  throne  of 
grace,  and  that  blessed  future  life  where  all 
our  thoughts  ought  to  centre.  I  hope  that 


48  MEMOIR   OF 

your  dear  godmother  now  enjoys  perfect  hap- 
piness ;  since  the  death  of  our  parents  she 
has  suffered  much.  Indeed,  for  several  years 
she  has  experienced  the  pain  of  rheumatism 
in  frequent  attacks ;  her  patience  and  resigna- 
tion to  the  will  of  God,  and  her  entire  con- 
fidence in  the  Mother  of  God,  will  be  her 
propitiation.  I  love  to  think  that  God  is 
good ;  he  knows  our  hearts,  and  will  judge 
us." 

The  letter  closes  with  assurances  of  the 
love  and  gratitude  of  all  the  family.  It  is 
from  Madame  de  Berty,  the  sister  of  Aurora 
Berard. 

Toussaint's  situation  was  now  prosperous 
in  every  way ;  he  lived  in  a  pleasant  and 
commodious  house,  which  was  arranged  with 
an  air  of  neatness,  and  even  gentility.  Juliette 
was  gay  and  cheerful;  she  loved  her  little 
parties  and  reunions ;  they  had  wealth  enough 
for  their  own  enjoyment,  and  to  impart  to 
those  who  were  in  want.  They  were  con- 
scientious Catholics;  charity  was  for  them, 
not  only  a  religious  duty,  but  a  spontaneous 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  49 

feeling  of  the  heart.  One  instance  may  here  be 
mentioned  of  the  quiet,  silent  manner  in  which 
they  bestowed  their  good  deeds.  A  French 
gentleman,  whom  Toussaint  had  known  in 
affluence,  a  white  man,  was  reduced  to  pov- 
erty ;  he  was  sick  and  suffering,  craving  a 
delicacy  of  food  which  he  had  no  means  to 
procure.  For  several  months  Toussaint  and 
Juliette  sent  his  dinner,  nicely  cooked,  in 
such  a  way  that  he  could  not  suspect  from 
whom  it  came.  "  If  he  had  known,"  said 
Toussaint,  "  he  might  not  have  liked  it ; 
he  might  have  been  proud."  "  Yes,"  said 
Juliette,  "when  Toussaint  called  to  see  him 
sometimes,  he  would  say,  '  O,  I  am  well 
known !  I  have  good  friends ;  every  day  some- 
body sends  me  a  nice  dinner,  cooked  by  a 
French  cook ' ;  and  then  perhaps  he  would 
enumerate  the  different  viands.  My  good 
husband  would  come  home,  and  tell  me,  and 
we  would  laugh  very  much." 

When  Euphemia  was  about  seven   years 
of    age,   a    friend    of    Toussaint's    proposed 

her  being  taught    music.      Her    uncle  was 
4 


50  MEMOIR  OF 

wholly  opposed  to  the  idea;  he  thought  it 
would  involve  much  expenditure  of  time  and 
money,  and  he  saw  no  advantage  to  be  de- 
rived from  it.  He  said  the  little  girl  had  her 
own  sweet  voice,  and  sang  like  the  birds,  yet 
they  were  not  taught  music. 

Some  time  after,  a  warm  and  true  friend 
of  Toussaint's,  who  knew  his  worth,  urged 
him  to  let  her  give  lessons  to  Euphemia  in 
music  ;  this  was  the  lovely  and  amiable  Miss 
Metz.*  She  persevered  in  going  to  his  house, 
with  her  notes  in  her  hand.  Finally  he  con- 
sented, on  her  suggesting  that  it  might  here- 
after become  a  means  of  support  to  his  niece. 
This  representation,  with  her  gratuitous  in- 
struction, obviated  his  objections ;  but  then 
another  arose.  So  tenderly  guarded  was  the 
little  Euphemia,  that  he  never  suffered  her  to 
go  into  the  streets  alone,  and  he  felt  that  his 
time  could  not  be  spared  to  attend  her.  Miss 
Metz,  in  her  benevolent  zeal,  beautiful  and 
young  as  she  was,  offered  to  come  herself  and 

*  Now  Mrs.  Moulton,  residing  in  Paris. 


PIERRE    TOTTSSAINT.  51 

give  the  lessons.  But  Toussaint's  never  fail- 
ing sense  of  propriety  would  not  allow  of 
this  arrangement ;  and  Juliette,  her  good 
aunt,  accompanied  her  three  times  a  week  to 
her  kind  young  friend,  to  receive  her  lesson. 
This  was  continued  for  four  years.  Tous- 
saint  purchased  a  piano,  and  she  made  all 
the  progress  that  could  be  expected. 

It  was  obvious,  however,  that  her  religious 
and  moral  cultivation  was  the  first  object 
with  her  uncle ;  his  tenderness  and  judg- 
ment were  constantly  blending  their  efforts 
for  the  improvement  of  her  heart  and  mind. 
He  was  most  desirous  to  make  her  a  being 
who  would  be  capable  of  fulfilling  her  duty 
towards  her  Creator  and  her  fellow-beings. 
No  household  instruction  was  omitted.  Juli- 
ette was  an  excellent  housekeeper,  and  the 
little  girl  was  her  aunt's  assistant.  They 
were  constantly  inculcating  lessons  of  charity 
with  her  pleasures. 

Toussaint  was  much  interested  in  the 
Catholic  Orphan  School  for  white  children. 
"On  Euphemia's  saint's  day,"  he  said,  "I 


52  MEMOIR   OF 

always  took  her  with  me  to  the  cake  shop, 
and  we  filled  a  large  basket  with  buns,  jum- 
bles, and  gingerbread,  which  we  carried  to 
the  Orphan  Asylum."  I  said  to  him,  "  You 
let  her  give  them  to  the  children  ? "  "  O 
no,  madam!  that  would  not  be  proper  for 
the  little  black  girl.  I  tell  her,  ask  one  of 
the  sisters  if  she  will  give  them  to  the  chil- 
dren. When  they  were  sent  for,  Euphemia 
stood  on  one  side  with  me  to  see  them  come 
in,  and  when  they  received  the  cake  they  were 
so  glad,  and  my  Euphemia  was  so  happy! 
One  day  as  we  went  there,  she  asked  me, 
1  Uncle,  what  are  orphans  ? '  I  answered,  they 
are  poor  little  children  that  have  no  father 
or  mother.  For  a  moment  she  looked  very 
sad  •  then  she  brightened  up  and  said,  '  But 
have  they  no  uncle  ?  '  O  madam !  I  feel  so 
much,  so  much  then,  I  thank  God  with  all 
my  heart." 

He  had  the  happy  art  of  making  every  one 
love  him,  by  his  affectionate  and  gentle  man- 
ner. His  deportment  to  his  wife  was  worthy 
of  imitation  even  by  white  men.  She  was 


PIERRE    TOTJSSAINT.  53 

twenty  years  younger  than  he  was,  and  no 
doubt  had  a  will  of  her  own ;  but  she  always 
yielded  it  to  Toussaint's,  because  she  said  she 
was  not  obliged  to  do  it.  A  friend  related  to 
me  an  amusing  scene  she  witnessed.  Juliette 
was  about  to  purchase  a  mourning  shawl,  for 
she  had  just  lost  a  relative.  The  shawls  were 
exhibited.  "  How  do  you  like  this  for  mourn- 
ing ?  "  said  she  to  Toussaint.  "  Very  pretty," 
he  replied.  "  I  think,"  said  she,  "  it  is  hand- 
some enough  for  church."  "  O  yes!  very  good 
for  that."  "  Don't  you  think  it  will  do  to 
wear  if  it  rains  ?  "  "  O,  certainly ! "  "I  think 
it  will  do  sometimes  to  wear  to  market,  don't 
you  ?  "  "  Very  nice,"  he  replied ;  "  pray  take 
it,  Juliette;  it  is  good  for  mourning,  foi 
church,  for  rain,  and  for  market ;  it  is  a  very 
nice  shawl."  Juliette  secured  it,  much  satis- 
fied with  her  bargain. 

Since  I  began  this  memoir,  I  have  learned 
that  Toussaint  purchased  Juliette's  freedom 
before  he  married  her.  To  this  circumstance 
he  did  not  allude  in  the  history  of  his  early 
life ;  probably  from  that  sense  of  delicacy  for 


54  MEMOIR  OF 

which  he  was  so  remarkable.  He  went  im- 
mediately after  the  ceremony  to  the  City  Hall 
to  have  the  papers  ratified. 

Euphemia  was  taught  reading,  writing, 
and  all  pursuits  adapted  to  her  age.  When 
she  was  five  or  six  years  old,  she  was  a  most 
engaging  child;  her  manners  were  striking- 
ly gentle,  her  countenance  and  expression 
pleasant,  and  her  behavior  excellent,  modelled 
upon  her  uncle's  ideas  of  obedience  and 
deference,  which  he  had  always  practised 
himself.  He  often  contrived  to  throw  in  a 
word  of  admonition  to  the  children  round 
him ;  to  one  little  girl  where  he  visited  he 
said,  "  Miss  Regina,  your  mother  very  good ; 
obey  her  now,  you  will  be  happy  when  you 
are  older."  This  lesson  years  after  she  grate- 
fully mentioned. 

How  devotedly  he  loved  his  little  niece, 
many  will  yet  remember.  She  seemed  fully 
to  understand  his  affection,  and  clung  to  him 
as  the  vine  clings  to  its  support.  She  was 
delicately  formed,  and  her  figure  slight ;  he 
would  put  his-arm  around  her,  and  say,  "  My 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  55 

Euphemia,"  with  a  tenderness  that  was  af- 
fecting ;  there  appeared  something  sacred  in 
his  love,  as  if  he  felt  that  God  had  intrusted 
her  to  his  protection,  and,  by  depriving  her  of 
all  other  earthly  support,  had  made  him  re- 
sponsible for  her  future  welfare. 

When  she  was  about  twelve  years  old, 
Toussaint  procured  her  a  French  teacher. 
French  was  his  own  and  his  wife's  language, 
of  course  that  of  his  family ;  but  he  wished 
her  to  speak  it  grammatically.  He  also  let 
apartments  in  his  house  to  a  respectable 
white  woman,  a  widow,  who  taught  Euphe- 
mia English,  and  who  after  a  while  collected 
a  small  school  of  young  children. 

It  was  a  striking  trait  in  his  character,  that 
every  thing  in  which  he  engaged  was  thorough- 
ly done ;  there  was  a  completeness  in  his  plans, 
and  their  execution,  which  commanded  confi- 
dence, and  which  perhaps  was  one  of  the  causes 
of  the  respect  which  he  inspired.  This  some- 
times led  ladies  to  say,  that  Toussaint  "  was  a 
finished  gentleman."  His  moral  qualities, 
however,  gave  him  this  distinction ;  for  with 


56  MEMOIR   OF 

the  most  perfect  modesty  he  knew  exactly  what 
was  due  to  others  and  to  himself,  while  his 
heart  overflowed  with  that  Christian  kindness 
which  far  surpasses  mere  worldly  politeness. 
He  was  observant  of  all  the  forms  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church ;  through  winter  and 
summer  he  missed  no  matin  prayers,  but  his 
heart  was  never  narrowed  by  any  feeling  as 
to  sect  or  color.  He  never  felt  degraded  by 
being  a  black  man,  or  even  a  slave ;  for  he 
considered  himself  as  much  the  object  of 
Divine  protection  as  any  other  human  being. 
He  understood  the  responsibility,  the  great- 
ness, of  the  part  allotted  him  ;  that  he  was  to 
serve  God  and  his  fellow-men,  and  so  fulfil 
the  duties  of  the  situation  in  which  he  was 
placed.  There  was  something  truly  noble 
and  great  in  the  view  that  he  took  of  his  own 
nature  and  responsibility.  No  failure  on  the 
part  of  the  master  could  in  his  opinion  ab- 
solve a  slave  from  his  duty.  His  own  path 
was  marked  out ;  he  considered  it  a  straight 
one  and  easy  to  follow,  and  he  followed  it- 
through  life.  He  was  born  and  brought  up 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  57 

in  St.  Domingo  at  a  period  which  can  never 
return.  In  the  large  circle  around  him  there 
were  no  speculations  upon  freedom  or  human 
liberty,  and  on  those  subjects  his  mind  ap- 
pears to  have  been  perfectly  at  rest.  When 
he  resided  in  New  York,  he  still  preserved  the 
same  tranquil,  contented  state  of  mind,  yet 
that  he  considered  emancipation  a  blessing, 
he  proved,  by  gradually  accumulating  a  sum 
sufficient  to  purchase  his  sister's  freedom.  It 
was  not  his  own  ransom  for  which  he  toiled, 
but  Rosalie's,  as  has  been  previously  said,  for 
he  wished  that  she  might  take  her  station  as 
a  matron  among  the  free  women  of  New 
York.  But  he  does  not  appear  to  have  enter- 
tained any  inordinate  desire  for  his  own  free- 
dom. He  was  fulfilling  his  duty  in  the  situa- 
tion in  which  his  Heavenly  Father  chose  to 
place  him,  and  that  idea  gave  him  peace  and 
serenity.  When  his  mistress  on  her  death- 
bed presented  him  his  liberty,  he  most  grate- 
fully received  it;  and  we  fully  believe  he  would 
not  have  suffered  any  earthly  power  to  wrest 
it  from  him. 


58  MEMOIR   OF 

There  are  many  in  the  present  day  who 
will  view  this  state  of  mind  as  degrading, 
who  consider  the  slave  absolved,  by  his  great 
primary  wrong  of  bondage,  from  all  obliga- 
tion to  the  slaveholder.  Not  such  was  Tous- 
saint's  idea.  He  did  not  ask,  like  Darwin's 
African  slave,  "  Am  I  not  a  man  and  a 
brother?"  but  he  felt  that  he  was  a  man  and 
a  brother.  It  was  the  high  conception  of 
his  own  nature,  as  derived  from  eternal  jus- 
tice, that  made  him  serene  and  self-possessed. 
He  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  character 
of  Christ ;  he  heard  a  sermon  from  Dr.  Chan- 
ning,  which  he  often  quoted.  "  My  friends," 
said  Channing,  "  Jesus  can  give  you  nothing 
so  precious  as  himself,  as  his  own  mind.  May 
this  mind  be  in  you.  Do  not  think  that  any 
faith  in  him  can  do  you  good,  if  you  do  not 
try  to  be  pure  and  true  like  him."  "We  trust 
many  will  recognize  the  teachings  of  the 
Saviour  in  Toussaint's  character. 

Madame  Toussaint  loved  Euphemia  with 
the  same  affection  that  she  would  have  be- 
stowed on  her  own  children,  had  she  pos- 


PIERRE   TOTTSSAINT.  59 

sessed  any.  She  was  an  excellent  wife,  and 
respected  her  husband's  feelings  in  all  things. 
She  was  gay  and  good-humored,  had  a  most 
pleasant,  cordial  laugh,  and  a  ladylike  deport- 
ment. Her  figure  and  features  were  fully  de- 
veloped, and  much  more  African  than  Tous- 
saint's,  though  she  was  several  shades  lighter. 
Their  house  was  the  abode  of  hospitality, 
and  many  pale  faces  visited  them. 

At  the  age  of  fourteen,  Euphemia  seemed 
to  have  attained  firmness  and  strength,  and 
we  can  hardly  imagine  more  domestic  happi- 
ness, or  a  picture  of  more  innocent  enjoy- 
ment, than  Toussaint's  household  afforded. 
His  peculiar  devotedness  and  tenderness 
towards  Euphemia  seemed  to  be  richly  re- 
warded. He  had  no  idea  of  making  her  a 
being  that  would  be  incapable  of  fulfilling  the 
daily  avocations  of  life.  She  was  carefully 
taught  all  domestic  duties ;  it  was  her  great 
pleasure  to  aid  her  aunt,  and  she  was  never 
happier  than  when  she  was  allowed  to  assist 
in  the  work  of  the  family.  When  she  grew 
old  enough  to  make  her  uncle's  coffee,  it 


60  MEMOIR    OF 

would  be  difficult  to  say  which  received  most 
pleasure,  the  uncle  or  the  niece,  the  first  time 
she  brought  it  to  him,  and  said,  "  I  made  it 
all  myself." 

Toussaint's  friends  knew  well  they  could 
afford  him  no  higher  gratification  than  by  be- 
stowing kind  attentions  upon  this  child  of  his 
adoption  and  darling  of  his  heart.  Many 
and  constant  were  the  little  presents  she 
received.  Toys,  dolls,  and  bonbons  were 
the  early  gifts;  afterwards  books,  and  those 
things  suitable  to  her  increasing  years.  He 
always  spoke  of  the  kindness  and  solicitude 
of  his  beloved  friend,  Mrs.  Peter  Cruger,  origi- 
nally Miss  Church,  for  his  Euphemia,  with 
a  gratitude  that  could  hardly  be  expressed. 
He  had  another  devoted  friend,  to  whom  his 
heart  was  bound  by  the  strongest  ties  of 
reverence  and  affection, — the  one  to  whom 
we  have  before  alluded.  One  has  long  since 
passed  away,  the  other  but  yet  a  little  while 
was  with  us.  They  both  loved  and  cherished 
the  litte  girl  for  her  uncle's  sake,  and  she 
seemed  to  be  daily  fulfilling  his  fond  wishes. 


PIERRE   TOTJSSAINT.  61 

She  was  carefully  educated  in  the  forms  of 
the  Catholic  Church,  and  no  lesson  of  love, 
charity,  or  kindness  was  forgotten,  that  might 
soften  and  penetrate  her  youthful  heart. 
What  delight  to  Toussaint  to  return  to  his 
happy  home  after  the  fatigues  of  the  day, 
and  meet  this  young  creature  of  his  affec- 
tions, who  enlivened  him  with  her  music, 
cheered  him  by  her  smiles,  and  interested  him 
by  relating  all  her  little  pursuits  since  they 
had  separated !  Perhaps  she  would  repeat  to 
him  some  story  she  had  read  during  his  ab- 
sence, and  she  would  say,  "  It  is  a  true  story, 
I  read  it  in  a  book." 

Her  exercises  in  writing  were  very  regular ; 
every  week  two  little  notes  in  French  and 
English  were  handed  to  Toussaint  from  his 
niece.  We  have  many  of  them  before  us; 
we  insert  a  few,  which  are  about  equal  to 
those  of  white  children  at  her  age. 

"New  York,  February  23,  1827. 
"  DEAR  UNCLE  :  — 

"  O,  how  sorry  I  am  that  you  was  not 
there  to  see  Miss  Metz  married ;  she  looked 
so  sweet  and  beautiful ;  she  looked  like  an 


62  MEMOIR   OF 

angel ;  but  what  I  think  was  so  good  in  her, 
that  she  should  come  and  kiss  my  aunt  and 
me,  before  all  the  company.  I  believe  no- 
body would  do  it  but  her.  It  will  come  quite 
difficult  to  me  to  call  her  Mrs.  Moulton.  I 
have  made  one  mistake  already. 
"Adieu,  dear  uncle. 

"  EUPHEMIA  TOUSSAINT." 

"  DEAR  UNCLE  :  —  , 

"  What  bad  weather  we  have  now !  I  hope 
it  will  not  last  long,  for  it  is  very  disagreeable 
for  you,  who  have  to  run  all  over  the  town, 
and  everywhere  ;  but  God  knows  better  than 
we  do  ;  he  does  every  thing  for  the  best,  and 
it  is  so  singular  that  we  cannot  be  contented. 
Dear  uncle,  I  will  be  very  much  obliged  to 
you  if  you  will  give  me  one  shilling  to  buy 
cotton  to  finish  my  frock ;  now  I  have  begun 
it  I  want  to  finish  it  very  much,  and  after 
that  I  want  to  embroider  a  Vandyke.  I  have 
not  seen  Mrs.  Cruger  a  long  time  ;  I  wish  to 
see  her  very  much. 

"Adieu,  dear  uncle. 

"  EUPHEMIA  TOUSSAINT." 


PIERRE  TOUSSAINT.  63 

"  DEAR  UNCLE  :  — 

"  O,  I  must  write  to  Mrs.  Moulton  to  tell  her 
about  your  having  your  miniature  taken ;  *  I 
know  that  it  will  please  her,  and  make  her 
laugh.  I  have  several  things  to  tell  her  that 
will  please  her  very  much.  Dear  uncle  will 
you  excuse  me  for  writing  so  short  a  letter 
this  week,  for  I  composed  it  in  a  great  hurry. 
m  "Your  EUPHEMIA  TOUSSAINT." 

The  little  girl's  attachment  to  this  kind 
friend,  Mrs.  Moulton,  was  unceasing  through 
her  short  life.  She  often  complained  of  the 
difficulty  of  calling  her  by  her  married  name, 
and  said,  the  other  was  much  more  natural. 

It  is  with  grief  we  see  dark  clouds  gather- 
ing over  this  smiling  prospect.  The  health 
of  Euphemia  began  to  decline,  and  she  was 
threatened  with  consumptive  complaints.  Ju- 
liette mentioned  her  fears  to  her  uncle;  he 
could  not  believe  it,  he  could  not  listen  to  it. 
But  alas !  it  soon  became  too  evident  that  the 

*  The  miniature  alluded  to  is  the  one  from  which  the  litho- 
graph has  been  taken. 


64  MEMOIR   OF 

disorder  of  the  mother  had  sown  its  heredi- 
tary seeds.  Then  there  was  no  rest  for  poor 
Toussaint  night  or  day.  He  required  the  un- 
remitting consolations  of  his  friends  to  soothe 
and  calm  his  mind.  He  hung  over  the  dar- 
ling of  his  affections  with  an  intensity  of 
feeling  which  seemed  to  threaten  his  own  life. 

The  good  Father  Powers  devoted  himself 
to  uncle  and  niece.  It  was  judged  best  not 
to  acquaint  Euphemia  with  her  situation.  It 
was  her  delight  to  rest  in  her  uncle's  arms,  to 
tell  him  how  she  loved  him,  and  what  she 
would  do  for  him  when  she  got  well. 

Sometimes  when  friends  called,  they  would 
find  him  seated  on  her  bed,  where  she  lay 
supported  by  pillows,  her  presents  strewed 
around  her,  for  people  were  untiring  in  send- 
ing her  little  gifts  to  interest  and  amuse  her. 
Her  uncle  would  hand  her  the  articles  that 
lay  beyond  her  reach,  and  amuse  her  by  re- 
counting her  treasures.  So  many  more  good 
things  were  sent  her  than  she  could  even 
taste,  that  she  said  playfully,  "  I  make  uncle 
eat  all  these  up,  but  I  keep  the  flowers  to 
look  at." 


PIERKE  TOtJSSAINT.  65 

Toussaint  felt  deeply  the  proofs  of  friend- 
ship which  were  daily  accumulated  in  at- 
tentions to  his  darling,  and  often  expressed 
his  unworthiness  in  the  humblest  manner, 
saying,  "  I  thank  God  for  all  his  goodness." 

It  was  a  great  consolation  to  him  that 
Euphemia  suffered  but  little.  She  gradually 
wasted  away,  without  any  painful  struggles. 
He  said  one  day,  "  God  is  good ;  we  know 
that  here  on  earth,  but  my  Euphemia  will 
know  it  first  there"  pointing  upwards. 

A  few  months  brought  the  rapid  decline  to 
a  close ;  and  the  loved  one  who  had  been  so 
carefully  cherished  and  guarded,  and  whose 
slumbers  had  been  watched  over  from  infancy, 
slept  the  last  sleep  of  death. 

"  And  what  is  early  death,  but  sleep 
O'er  which  the  angels  yigils  keep ; 
Around  the  white-robed  seraphs  stand, 
To  bear  the  young  to  the  spirit-land." 

For  a  long  while   Toussaint  could  only  say 

to  those  who  came  to   comfort  him,    "  My 

poor  Euphemia  is  gone " ;   and  as   his   lips 

uttered  these  words,  he  covered  his  face  with 

5 


66  MEMOIR   OF 

his  hands.  He  grew  thin,  avoided  society, 
and  refused  to  be  comforted.  But  his  mind 
was  too  pious  and  too  rational  to  indulge 
long  this  excess  of  sorrow.  He  listened  to 
high  and  holy  consolations,  and  found  resig- 
nation in  the  prayers  of  his  Church.  Those 
who  witnessed  his  struggles  to  command 
himself  at  this  time,  and  perform  his  daily 
duties,  have  spoken  of  him  with  reverence. 

Toussaint  received  a  most  consolatory  letter 
from  his  friend,  Mrs.  Cruger,  who  was  then  in 
France,  soon  after  the  death  of  his  niece. 
We  give  the  following  translation :  — 

"  1829. 

"  I  need  not  say,  my  dear  Toussaint,  how 
much  I  sympathize  with  you ;  my  heart  and 
my  soul  follow  you  in  your  last  cares  for 
this  cherished  child,  to  whom  you  have  ever 
been  the  best,  the  most  tender  of  fathers. 
My  tears  have  flowed  with  yours ;  but  I  could 
not  weep  for  her,  I  wept  for  you.  When  we 
resign  to  the  Eternal  Father  a  child  as  pure 
as  the  heaven  to  which  she  returns,  we  ought 
not  to  weep  that  an  angel  has  entered  into  a 


PIERRE   TOtTSSAINT. 


67 


state  of  happiness  which  our  feeble  concep- 
tions cannot  picture,  and  you,  my  good  Tous- 
saint,  who  are  piety  itself,  will  realize  this 
consoling  thought,  the  only  one  you  can  now 
welcome  in  this  severe  affliction.  The  life  of 
Euphemia  has  been  almost  a  miracle ;  she 
owes  her  existence  to  your  constant  care  and 
watchfulness.  Her  short  life  has  been  full  of 
happiness  ;  she  has  never  known  the  loss  of  a 
mother ;  far  happier  than  hundreds  of  others 
raised  in  the  wealthiest  and  most  elevated 
classes,  the  most  gentle  virtues  and  affec- 
tions have  surrounded  her  from  her  cradle, 
and  she  has  been  taken  from  a  paradise  on 
earth  to  enter  into  an  eternity  of  happiness. 
Could  you  have  secured  the  future  to  her  ? 
If.  death  had  struck  you  instead  of  her,  to 
what  dangers  might  she  not  have  been  ex- 
posed! May  the  consciousness  of  the  duty 
you  have  so  faithfully  discharged  mitigate 
this  bitter  sorrow.  You  have  given  back  to  a 
cherished  sister  the  child  of  your  adoption, 
before  either  sin  or  sorrow  had  touched  her, 
and  they  will  both  wait  for  you  in  that  man- 


68  MEMOIR    OF 

sion  reserved  for  beings  as  excellent  and  vir- 
tuous as  you  are." 

The  effect  of  Euphemia's  death,  and  the 
deep  affliction  it  caused  Toussaint,  seemed 
eventually  to  produce  a  more  energetic  pur- 
pose of  usefulness  ;  his  earnest  desire  was  to 
benefit  others.  To  accomplish  this  object, 
when  funds  were  wanting,  he  would  use  his 
influence  in  promoting  fairs,  and,  in  individual 
cases,  raffles  ;  disposing  of  elegant  and  super- 
fluous articles  at  a  just  price,  when  their  own- 
ers were  reduced  by  poverty. 

His  ingenuity  in  contriving  means  of  assist- 
ance to  others  was  remarkable.  A  French 
lady,  who  was  much  embarrassed  in  her  cir- 
cumstances by  the  depreciation  of  her  small 
property  and  the  failure  of  her  rents,  con- 
sulted Toussaint  on  the  possibility  of  doing 
something  for  her  support.  He  suggested 
her  teaching  French.  She  said  very  frankly, 
that  she  was  inadequate  to  it,  that  she  had 
no  grammatical  knowledge.  "  Madam,"  said 
he,  "  I  am  no  judge,  but  I  have  frequently 
heard  it  said  that  you  speak  remarkably  pure 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  69 

and  correct  French."  This  was  really  the 
case,  for  she  had  been  educated  in  the  best 
society.  "  That  is  a  very  different  thing," 
she  replied,  "  from  teaching  a  language." 

Toussaint,  after  some  moments  of  reflec- 
tion, said,  "  Should  you  be  willing  to  give 
lessons  for  conversing  in  French  ?  "  She  re- 
plied that  she  should  be  quite  willing. 

He  at  once  set  about  procuring  scholars 
among  his  English  friends,  many  of  whom 
appreciated  the  advantage  of  free  and  famil- 
iar, and  at  the  same  time  correct  conversation, 
for  their  children ;  and  thus  pupils  were  not 
wanting  for  the  lady,  and  she  was  able  to  sup- 
port her  family  by  these  simple  means  till  the 
sudden  rise  of  her  rents  relieved  her  from  her 
embarrassment.  This  method  was  quite  an 
original  idea  of  Toussaint's  at  that  time, 
though  it  has  since  been  adopted  even  in  our 
own  language. 

On  occasion  of  some  fair  for  a  charitable 
purpose,  Toussaint  would  go  round  to  his 
rich  friends  arid  represent  the  object,  and 
they  placed  so  much  confidence  in  his  judg- 


70  MEMOIR    OF 

ment,  that  they  would  often  add  trifles  to 
swell  the  list,  and  always  take  a  number  of 
tickets  ;  and  in  this  way  he  was  able  to  col- 
lect considerable  sums  for  the  benefit  of  the 
orphan  and  the  widow. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Toussaint's 
charity  consisted  merely  in  bestowing  money ; 
he  felt  the  moral  greatness  of  doing  good,  of 
giving  counsel  to  the  weak  and  courage  to  the 
timid,  of  reclaiming  the  vicious,  and,  above 
all,  of  comforting  the  sick  and  the  sorrowful. 
One  of  his  friends  said  that  "  his  pity  for  the 
suffering  seemed  to  partake  of  the  character 
of  the  Saviour's  tenderness  at  the  tomb  of 
Lazarus."  When  he  visited  his  friends  in 
sorrow,  his  words  were  few ;  he  felt  too  deep- 
ly to  express  by  language  his  sympathy. 
Once  he  said,  "  I  have  been  to  see  poor 

Madam  C ."     (She  had  met  with  a  most 

heavy  bereavement.)  "  And  what  did  you 
say  to  her  ?  "  said  a  friend.  "  Nothing,"  he 
replied,  "  I  could  only  take  her  hand  and 
weep  with  her,  and  then  I  went  away ;  there 
was  nothing  to  be  said."  He  felt  that,  in  the 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  71 

first  moment  of  stunning  grief,  God  alone 
could  speak  to  her. 

When  he  entered  the  house  of  mourning, 
an  air  of  sympathy  pervaded  his  whole  man- 
ner, the  few  words  he  uttered  were  those  of 
faith  and  love,  and  he  was  often  successful  in 
communicating  comfort  to  the  sorrowful. 

We  must  not  omit  his  wonderful  capacity 
in  sickness  ;  how  often  he  smoothed  the  pil- 
low and  administered  relief  to  disease.  He 
was  constantly  summoned  as  a  watcher,  and 
gave  his  services  to  the  poor  without  money 
or  price.  At  a  time  when  the  yellow  fever 
prevailed,  and  the  alarm  was  so  great  that 
many  were  deserted,  Toussaint  discovered 
that  a  man  was  left  wholly  alone.  He  was  a 
stranger,  but  he  took  him  to  his  house,  nursed 
him,  watched  over  him,  and  restored  him  to 
health.  This  stranger  was  a  white  man ! 

Like  others,  he  sometimes  met  with  ingrati- 
tude for  his  services;  in  one  particular  in- 
stance he  persevered  through  difficulties  and 
discouragements  in  endeavoring  to  serve  a 
French  family,  and  succeeded  in  procuring 


72  MEMOIR   OF 

situations  for  two  of  the  young  men ;  but  as 
they  grew  successful,  they  rather  avoided 
their  benefactor.  "  I  am  glad,"  said  Tous- 
saint,  "they  so  well  off;  they  want  nothing 
more  of  me." 

Because  Pierre  Toussaint  was  an  unlet- 
tered man,  many  people  who  were  surprised 
at  his  character,  and  at  his  numberless  good 
deeds,  attributed  his  excellence  wholly  to  his 
natural  disposition.  They  said,  "  He  has  the 
best  instincts,  —  he  was  born  good."  Those 
who  knew  him  better  saw  that  he  was  gov- 
erned by  a  high  and  noble  principle.  In  a 
world  of  passion  and  error  it  is  idle  to  talk 
of  human  instincts  as  securities  of  virtue. 
Toussaint  reflected  deeply;  he  had  no  theo- 
ries of  philosophy ;  he  would  not  have  un- 
derstood much  of  the  sentimental  language 
with  which  our  novels  abound ;  but,  as  we 
have  before  seen,  he  understood  the  plain 
teachings  of  Christianity.  He  often  quoted, 
in  his  native  language,  from  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  and  the  beatitudes  seemed  to  have 
found  their  way  to  his  heart.  His  whole  life 


PIEREE   TOUSSAINT.  73 

was  one  of  thought  and  observation ;  he  had 
a  surprising  insight  into  character,  and  a 
wonderful  tact  in  classing  his  friends.  To 
some,  even  where  he  was  sincerely  attached, 
he  was  never  communicative,  for  he  knew 
they  were  not  judicious ;  to  others,  with 
whom  he  had  daily  intercourse,  he  was  care- 
ful not  to  commit  himself,  for  he  knew  they 
were  not  sincere ;  but  there  were  others  to 
whom  he  gave  his  whole  heart,  as  though  he 
truly  believed  them  but  little  lower  than  the 
angels. 

When  we  speak  of  Toussaint's  friends,  we 
do  not  include  his  own  people  of  color, 
though  most  gladly  would  we  procure  their 
testimony  were  it  in  our  power.  That  he 
was  a  fast  and  true  friend  to  them  we  know, 
but  our  walks  have  not  led  us  among  them  ; 
•yet  by  this  noble  specimen  we  are  induced  to 
believe  what  they  may  become  by  treading  in 
his  footsteps.  The  friends  we  mean  to  par- 
ticularize were  those  to  whose  houses  he 
daily  resorted,  —  people  in  New  York  of  the 
highest  class  in  rank,  cultivation,  and  wealth. 


74  MEMOIR   OF 

It  was  by  such  he  was  sought  and  honored, 
and  long  after  his  labors  as  hair-dresser  had 
diminished,  by  the  simpler  fashion  of  the 
times,  he  was  requested  by  them  to  continue 
his  daily  visits.  His  profession  began  with 
the  age  of  powder  and  pomatum,  when  im- 
mense fabrics  were  reared  upon  the  female 
head ;  and  to  have  an  idea  of  these,  the  young 
must  go  back  to  ancient  pictures,  where  they 
will  see  them  in  all  their  glory.  When  pow- 
der was  relinquished,  still  the  style  of  hair- 
dressing  was  somewhat  architectural.  Dur- 
ing the  French  Revolution  perukes  or  wigs 
were  introduced,  and  of  course  adopted  by 
our  American  ladies.  These  seemed  to  fur- 
nish the  strongest  proofs  of  the  caprice  of 
fashion,  as  it  was  generally  found  that  those 
on  whom  nature  had  liberally  bestowed  black 
hair  went  through  the  process  of  the  razor,, 
and  appeared  with  flaxen  or  light  brown 
wigs ;  so,  in  reverse,  the  blonde  belles  aston- 
ished their  admirers  by  appearing  with  glossy 
raven  curls.  Of  course  there  could  be  no  at- 
tempt at  deception  in  this  matter ;  it  was  one 


PIEREE    TOT7SSAINT.  75 

of  the  caprices  of  fashion  which  had  its 
reign  and  passed  away. 

Through  all  these  changes  Toussaint  con- 
tinued to  be  the  favorite,  and  was  summoned 
to  shave  the  beautiful  heads  he  had  so  often 
dressed,  and  prepare  them  for  the  modern 
wig.  Then  again  the  perukes  were  dis- 
carded, and  the  natural  hair  suffered  to  grow, 
and  what  were  called  crops  succeeded,  with 
the  short  hair  curled  over  the  head.  Still 
Pierre  stood  in  high  favor ;  no  curls  were  so 
beautifully  arranged  as  his.  As  the  hair  be- 
gan to  recover  its  growth,  the  Grecian  fashion 
was  adopted,  —  the  hair  fastened  on  the  back 
of  the  head  and  falling  in  curls  like  those  of 
the  sculptured  Venus.  Still  Toussaint  was 
all-important,  and  ready  to  adopt  any  fashion 
his  employers  chose ;  but  he  looked  on  with 
the  eye  of  a  philosopher.  "  Fashion  keep 
change,  change,"  said  he ;  "  all  good,  the  way 
poor  people  live." 

A  lady  told  me  that  one  day,  when  he  came 
to  pay  his  daily  visit,  they  were  preparing 
dresses  for  a  wedding.  "  I  well  remember," 


76  MEMOIR   OF 

said  she,  "  the  thoughtful  manner  with  which 
he  stood  looking  at  the  flowers,  laces,  and 
gay  silks  strewed  about  the  room.  I  said, 
'  Why  do  you  look  so  grave,  Toussaint  ? ' 
'  O  madam,'  said  he,  'I  go  to  a  great 
many  places ;  I  go  into  one  house  and  they 
cry,  cry,  cry,  —  somebody  dead.  I  go  into 
another,  and  it  is  all  laugh,  laugh,  —  they  are 
happy  and  glad.  I  go  to  another,  it  is  all 
shut  up  dark,  they  move  very  softly,  they 
speak  in  a  whisper,  —  somebody  very  sick.  I 
come  here,  it  is  all  dance  and  sing,  and  flow- 
ers and  wedding-dresses.  I  say  nothing ;  but 
it  makes  me  think  a  great  deal.'  " 

Although  always  received  with  gladness 
and  respect  by  the  heads  of  the  house,  his 
humility,  good  sense,  and  kind  feeling  made 
him  equally  welcome  to  the  domestics.  He 
was  often  consulted  by  them,  and  when  he 
entered  the  house,  he  generally  exchanged  a 
few  words  ;  he  excited  in  them  no  envy  or  ill- 
will,  which  it  might  have  been  expected  would 
arise,  from  seeing  a  colored  man  treated  with 
so  much  more  distinction  than  themselves. 


PIERRE    TOTTSSAINT.  77 

The  truth  was,  that  they  respected  him,  they 
felt  the  value  of  his  good  opinion,  of  his 
recommendation,  and,  above  all,  they  confided 
in  the  kindness  of  his  heart. 

This  was  in  truth  his  great  characteristic, 
the  goodness  of  his  heart.  "  The  heart  will 
live  for  ever.  Of  mere  ingenuity,  learning,  and 
ability,  much  must  fail  us  on  the  floor  of 
heaven,  left  behind  with  the  world  it  knows 
of,  and  to  perish  with  it."  But  the  heart  will 
live  on,  not  only  hereafter,  but  here.  Obedi- 
ence and  resignation  towards  God,  faith  in 
the  future,  patience  and  commiseration  for 
the  sick  and  suffering,  and  love  towards  those 
of  your  own  household,  and  to  those  around 
you,  are  not  perishable  in  their  nature ;  their 
influence  is  felt  on  all  who  come  in  contact. 
And  thus  it  was  with  Toussaint ;  his  heart 
was  not  only  kind  and  affectionate,  but  gay 
and  cheerful ;  it  was  filled  with  trust  and  con- 
fidence, and  gave  him  the  happy  power  of  dis- 
pelling gloom  and  anxiety  in  others.  Perhaps 
few  reflected  on  the  subject,  yet  they  all  felt 
that  they  loved  to  see  him  throughout  the 
household. 


78  MEMOIR  OF 

On  New  Year's  day  he  was  always  among 
those  who  came  to  tender  their  good  wishes ; 
every  house  from  the  drawing-room  to  the 
kitchen  was  open  to  him,  and  every  hand  ex- 
tended. We  presume  few  remember  him  in 
his  early  manhood.  Then  he  was  tall  and 
well  made,  and  with  the  flexibility  of  limb 
which  belongs  to  his  race.  He  was  truly  an 
African,  not  as  we  see  him  in  a  degenerate 
form,  but  as  Mungo  Park  describes  him  in  his 
travels  through  Western  Africa.  "  Every 
evening  when  the  sun  goes  down,  all  Africa 
is  alive  with  dance  and  song.  The  sound  of 
music,  rude  though  it  be,  stirs  the  leaves  of 
the  palm-tree  from  the  marts  of  Ophir  to  the 
coast  of  Congo."  Toussaint's  lively  descrip- 
tion of  these  evenings  on  his  native  planta- 
tion reminds  us  of  the  traveller's  account. 
Some  of  the  songs  of  the  West- Indian  ne- 
groes are  yet  preserved  amongst  us,  and  are 
remarkable  for  their  childlike  expression  of 
human  nature.  The  specimen  which  Park 
gives  of  an  African  song  must  be  familiar  to 
us  all :  "  The  poor  white  man,  faint  and 
weary,  came  and  sat  under  our  tree,"  &c. 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  79 

The  death  of  Toussaint's  most  dear  and 
beloved  friend,  Mrs.  Cruger,  was  a  heavy 
affliction  to  him  as  well  as  to  others.  We 
insert  a  letter  addressed  to  him  on  that  oc- 
casion, from  a  French  lady :  — 

"Havre,  1840. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  learn  the  death  of 
your  truly  estimable  friend,  Mrs.  Cruger. 
The  good  Archbishop  of  Bordeaux,  Bishop 
Chevereux,  said  to  me,  '  We  are  left  on 
earth  to  weep  for  our  friends.'  We  must 
believe  that  her  good  deeds  and  her  virtues 
will  find  favor  in  the  sight  of  the  God  of 
mercy,  whose  precepts  she  has  followed  all 
her  life. 

"Adieu,  my  dear  Toussaint !  Although  we 
may  not  meet  again  in  this  land  of  exile,  yet 
I  trust  we  shall  be  reunited  in  our  true  coun- 
try, —  heaven.  Let  us  live  so  as  to  merit 
this  happiness." 


PART     THIRD. 


THE  period  in  Toussaint's  life  which  oc- 
curred from  the  time  of  Euphemia's  death 
for  a  succession  of  years  seems  to  have  been 
an  uncommonly  tranquil  one.  His  union 
with  Juliette  was  happy.  She  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  respectable  woman  named  Clau- 
dine  Gaston,  who  came  to  this  country  as  a 
nurse,  as  has  been  before  mentioned,  with  a 
French  family,  by  whom  she  was  much  be- 
loved. She  was  a  judicious  and  an  affec- 
tionate wife,  by  her  neatness .  and  order 
making  his  house  pleasant  to  him,  and  taking 
a  more  than  equal  share  in  the  labors  of  the 
family. 

Every  man  must  value  the  respect  of  his 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  81 

wife,  and  Toussaint  could  not  but  be  gratified 
with  the  evident  delight  Juliette  received  from 
the  attentions  paid  him.  When  her  friends 
congratulated  her  on  having  such  a  good  hus- 
band, her  frank,  happy  smile,  displaying  rows 
of  white  teeth,  gave  a  full  assent  to  their  com- 
mendations. 

Toussaint  said  of  himself,  that  he  possessed 
a  quick  temper,  that  he  was  born  with  it, 
and  was  obliged  to  bear  it  about  with  him. 
We  doubt  not  that  it  was  true,  because  he 
had  a  lively  sensibility  to  every  thing ;  yet  to 
those  who  knew  his  self-command  and  forbear- 
ance, this  trait  made  him  the  more  interesting. 
One  of  his  intimate  friends,  in  alluding  to  his 
confessions  and  penitence  on  the  subject,  said: 
"  I  never  heard  him  speak  ill  of  any  one ;  if 
he  could  say  no  good,  he  was  silent.  Even 
those  who  were  ungrateful  to  him  met  with 
no  angry  rebuke ;  it  seemed  to  be  his  object 
to  forget  all  injuries." 

Toussaint  had  a  quick  sense  of  the  ridicu- 
lous, and  like  most  of  his  race,  when  he  was 
young,  was  an  excellent  mimic ;  as  he  grew 
6 


82  MEMOIR  OF 

older  he  relinquished  this  power,  so  amusing 
to  others,  as  a  dangerous  one.  He  played  on 
the  violin  for  small  dancing  parties  at  one 
time,  and  taught  one  or  two  boys  to  play  on 
this  instrument,  saying,  if  they  did  not  derive 
profit  from  it,  it  would  at  least  be  an  innocent 
amusement. 

One  of  the  methods  in  which  Toussaint 
did  essential  good  was  by  bringing  up  colored 
boys  one  after  another,  sending  them  to 
school,  and,  after  they  were  old  enough,  teach- 
ing them  some  useful  business.  In  all  these 
plans  of  charity  Juliette  united. 

The  neatness  and  order  of  their  household 
was  striking.  Toussaint  purchased  a  pleasant 
and  commodious  house  in  Franklin  Street, 
and  a  gentleman  of  the  highest  respectability 
took  rooms  there  for  some  months.  From  a 
note  of  his  I  have  permission  to  make  ex- 
tracts :  — 

'"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  Toussaint  is  on 
his  death-bed,  though  I  do  not  believe  he  has 
cared  much  about  living  since  he  lost  his 
wife.  Such  was  the  even  tenor  of  his  way 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  83 

while  I  lived  under  his  roof,  that  nothing  oc- 
curs particularly  to  my  memory.  You  know 
there  is  no  being  on  earth  who  presents  so 
few  prominent  and  recollectable  points  as  a 
'perfect  gentleman.'  If  you  undertake  to 
describe  any  such  person  whom  you  have 
ever  known,  you  will  find  him  the  most  in- 
describable. So  it  was  with  Toussaint.  His 
manners  were  gentle  and  courtly  ;  —  how  can 
this  simple  statement  be  expanded  into  de- 
tails, so  as  to  give  a  better  idea  of  them  ? 
The  most  unaffected  good  humor  at  all  times, 
the  most  respectful  and  polite  demeanor  with- 
out the  slightest  tincture  of  servility,  the  most 
natural  and  artless  conversation,  —  all  this  I 
remember  of  him,  as  every  one  else  remem- 
bers who  knows  him ;  but  all  his  intercourse 
was  so  unobtrusive  that  it  is  difficult  for  me 
to  recall  any  thing  marked.  I  remember  how 
much  I  was  pleased  with  his  deportment  and 
behavior  towards  his  wife.  Juliette  was  a 
good  woman,  but  unlike  Toussaint ;  she  was 
flesh  and  blood,  while  he  was  possessed  of 
the  spirit  of  one  man  out  of  many  thousands. 


84  MEMOIR  OF 

I  never  met  with  any  other  of  his  race  who 
made  me  forget  his  color.  Toussaint,  for  his 
deportment,  discretion,  good  sense,  and  en- 
tire trustworthiness  and  fidelity,  might  have 
discharged  creditably  all  the  functions  of  a 
courtier  or  privy  councillor.  His  politeness, 
which  was  uniform,  never  led  you  for  a  mo-, 
ment  to  suspect  his  sincerity ;  it  was  the 
natural  overflow,  the  inevitable  expression  of 
his  heart,  and  you  no  more  thought  of  dis- 
trusting it  than  of  failing  to  reciprocate  it, 
and  I  cannot  imagine  that  any  one  could 
offer  him  an  indignity." 

Such  is  the  testimony  of  a  gentleman  thor- 
oughly acquainted  with  the  world.  I  re- 
member Juliette's  opening  a  drawer  and  say- 
ing, "  This  is  Mr. 's  linen,  I  have  all  the 

care  of  it" ;  and  it  certainly  did  her  the  great- 
est credit. 

We  have  no  authority  to  say  much  of 
Toussaint's  views  of  slavery ;  in  that,  as  in 
all  things  else,  he  acted  rather  than  theorized. 
As  we  have  seen,  his  earnings,  all  that  he  did 
not  spend  on  the  comfort  of  his  mistress,  were 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  85 

carefully  hoarded  for  his  sister's  freedom,  and 
his  wife's  freedom  he  purchased  before  he 
married  her.  "We  cannot  doubt  how  highly 
he  prized  liberty  for  the  slave,  yet  he  was 
never  willing  to  talk  on  the  subject.  He 
seemed  to  fully  comprehend  the  difficulty  of 
emancipation,  and  once,  when  a  lady  asked 
him  if  he  was  an  Abolitionist,  he  shuddered, 
and  replied,  "  Madame  ils  n'ont  jamais  vu 
couler  le  sang  comme  moi,"  "They  have  never 
seen  blood  flow  as  I  have  " ;  and  then  he  added, 
"  They  don't  know  what  they  are  doing." 

When  Toussaint  first  came  to  this  country, 
the  free  negroes  and  some  of  the  Quakers 
tried  to  persuade  him  to  leave  his  mistress. 
They  told  him  that  a  man's  freedom  was  his 
own  right.  "  Mine,"  said  he,  "  belongs  to  my 
mistress." 

When  the  colored  people  in  New  York 
celebrated  their  release  from  bondage,  on  the 
5th  of  July,  1800,  they  came  to  Toussaint  to 
offer  him  a  prominent  part  in  the  procession. 
He  thanked  them  with  his  customary  polite- 
ness, congratulated  them  on  the  great  event 


86  MEMOIR   OF 

of  emancipation,  but  declined  the  honor  they 
assigned  him,  saying,  "  I  do  not  owe  my  free- 
dom to  the  State,  but  to  my  mistress." 

There  are  so  many  instances  of  his  devo- 
tion to  the  sick  that  we  do  not  particularize 
them ;  but  one  lady  mentions,  that  when  the 
yellow  fever  prevailed  in  New  York,  by  degrees 
Maiden  Lane  was  almost  wholly  deserted,  and 
almost  every  house  in  it  closed.  One  poor 
woman,  prostrated  by  the  terrible  disorder, 
remained  there  with  little  or  no  attendance ; 
till  Toussaint  day  by  day  came  through  the 
lonely  street,  crossed  the  barricades,  entered 
the  deserted  house  where  she  lay,  and  per- 
formed the  nameless  offices  of  a  nurse,  fear- 
lessly exposing  himself  to  the  contagion. 

At  another  time  he  found  a  poor  priest  in  a 
garret,  sick  of  the  ship-fever,  and  destitute  of 
every  thing.  He  made  his  case  known,  pro- 
cured him  wine  and  money,  and  finally  re- 
moved him  to  his  own  house,  where  he  and 
Juliette  attended  upon  him  till  he  recovered. 

A  friend  once  said  to  him,  "  Toussaint,  you 
are  richer  than  any  one  I  know;  you  have 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  87 

more  than  you  want,  why  not  stop  working 
now  ? "  He  answered,  "  Madam,  I  have 
enough  for  myself,  but  if  I  stop  work,  I  have 
not  enough  for  others." 

By  the  great  fire  of  1835,  Toussaint  lost 
by  his  investments  in  insurance  companies. 
Some  of  his  friends,  who  knew  of  his  slow, 
industrious  earnings,  and  his  unceasing  chari- 
ties, thought  it  but  just  to  get  up  a  subscrip- 
tion to  repair  his  losses.  As  soon  as  it  was 
mentioned  to  him  he  stopped  it,  saying  he  was 
not  in  need  of  it,  and  he  would  not  take  what 
many  others  required  much  more  than  he  did. 

Among  the  numerous  letters  which  Tous- 
saint received,  there  are  many  from  foreign 
parts.  Persons  of  rank  and  high  considera- 
tion wrote  to  him  for  years. 

In  1840  Toussaint  received  the  following 
letter  from  a  friend  at  Port-au-Prince :  — 

"  MY  DEAR  TOUSSAINT  :  — 

"  You  will  receive  this  by  the  Abbe , 

who  has  left  this  country  because  he  could 
not  exercise  his  functions  as  a  priest  of  God 
ought  to  be  able  to  do.  His  holy  duties  are 


88  MEMOIR   OF 

shackled  by  laws  which  subject  him  every 
moment  to  judges,  who,  according  to  the 
rules  of  our  faith,  are  not  competent  to  direot 
a  priest  in  his  duties  as  a  minister  of  God. 
For  reasons  like  these,  he  leaves  this  country ; 
but  he  can  inform  you  on  this  subject  better 
than  I  can." 

This  gentleman  was  received  by  Toussaint 
with  much  respect  and  cordiality.  '  He  left 
New  York  very  shortly,  and  a  few  months 
after,  a  letter,  from  which  we  make  the  fol- 
lowing extracts,  reached  Toussaint :  — 

"  Rome,  1841. 
"  MY  VERY  DEAR  FRIEND  : 

"  You  are  no  doubt  surprised  not  to  have 
heard  from  me  since  I  left  New  York,  but 
I  can  assure  you  this  omission  has  not 
arisen  from  forgetfulness  of  you  or  your  dear 
wife.  On  the  contrary,  I  have  thought  of  you 
constantly,  but  my  engagements  have  pre- 
vented my  writing  until  now. 

"  On  my  arrival  in  this  city,  I  was  pre- 
sented to  the  Propaganda,  and  was  received 
by  his  Eminence  Cardinal  Fransoni  with 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  89 

much  attention  and  kindness.  I  was  offered 
other  missions,  but  I  preferred  and  received  per- 
mission to  continue  my  studies  at  Rome  for 
two  years  in  the  College  of  the  Twelve  Apos- 
tles, and  the  Propaganda  pays  all  the  expense 
during  my  residence  in  Rome.  To-day  for 
the  first  time  I  put  on  the  Roman  ecclesiasti- 
cal habit.  I  have  received  permission  from 
the  Cardinal  Vicar- General  of  the  Pope,  to 
celebrate  the  Holy  Mass  in  all  the  churches 
of  Rome.  There  are,  I  believe,  four  hundred, 
some  of  them  the  largest  and  finest  in  the 
world;  indeed  they  are  little  heavens  upon 
earth,  adorned  with  every  thing  which  can  be 
procured  in  gold,  silver,  hangings  of  silk  and 
satin,  in  marble  statuary,  in  paintings,  and 
mosaics.  I  wish  I  could  give  you  a  more 
minute  account.  Present  my  respects  to  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Powers,  and  believe  me  that  I 
hold  you  and  your  kind  wife  in  constant  re- 
membrance. With  my  best  wishes  for  your 
temporal  and  eternal  welfare,  permit  me  to 
subscribe  myself. 

"  Your  very  sincere  friend." 


90  MEMOIR    OF 

We  add  a  few  extracts  of  letters  from  Ms 
own  race.  The  following  is  from  Constantin 
Boyer :  — 

"Port-au-Prince,  1836. 
"•  MY  DEAR  FRIEND  :  — 

"  I  begin  by  wishing  you  a  happy  new 
year,  as  well  as  to  madam,  your  wife.  How- 
ever, it  is  only  wishing  you  a  continuation  of 
your  Christian  philosophy,  for  it  is  that  which 
makes  your  true  happiness.  I  do  not  under- 
stand how  any  one  can  have  a  moment's 
peace  in  this  world  if  he  does  not  have  con- 
stant reference  to  God  and  his  holy  will." 

Another  colored  friend  in  Port-au-Prince 
writes  as  follows  :  — 

"1837. 

"  You  wish  me  prosperity,  dear  friend ; 
what  can  touch  my  heart  more  than  to  re- 
ceive your  benedictions,  —  the  benedictions  of 
a  religious  man.  I  have  known  many  men 
and  observed  them  closely,  but  I  have  never 
seen  one  that  deserved  as  you  do  the  name 
of  a  religious  man.  I  have  always  followed 
your  counsels,  but  now  more  than  ever,  for 


PIERRE   TOTTSSAINT.  91 

there  are  few  like  you.    Good  men  are  as  rare 
as  a  fine  day  in  America." 

The  following  is  from  a  colored  woman  to 
Madame  Toussaint :  — 

"Port-au-Prince,  1844. 

"  This  is  the  second  letter  I  have  written  to 
you  without  waiting  for  an  answer ;  but  the 
gratitude  I  owe  to  you,  my  very  dear  friend, 
and  to  your  husband,  induces  me  to  write, 
every  good  opportunity.  After  the  services 
and  the  kindness  you  have  shown  me,  during 
my  residence  in  New  York,  I  hope  I  never 
shall  forget  you.  Since  our  arrival  here,  we 
have  been  in  constant  trouble  and  anxiety; 
the  country  is  not  tranquil.  I  fear  that  we 
shall  be  obliged  to  return  to  Jamaica  again. 
At  the  other  end  of  the  coast,  more  than 
twelve  hundred  persons  have  gone  to  Jamaica. 
We  are  in  a  country  where  you  can  get  no 
one  to  serve  you  or  to  help  you.  They  all 
tell  you  they  are  free,  and  they  will  serve  no 
one." 

The  following  extract  is  from  a  letter  by  a 
colored  friend :  — 


TO  MEMOIR   OF 

"Port-au-Prince,  1838. 

"  Let  us  now  speak  of  politics.  I  have  the 
honor  to  send  you  the  treaty  between  France 
and  Hayti,  that  you  may  see  the  conditions 
of  agreement  between  the  two  powers.  If  I 
were  to  give  you  all  the  details,  I  should  have 
to  write  a  journal.  But  you  will  have  them 
before  your  eyes.  I  can  tell  you,  however, 
that  since  the  arrival  of  Baron  de  Lascase 
there  has  been  nothing  but  fetes,  dinners, 
breakfasts,  and  balls,  in  the  city  and  the  en- 
virons. The  company  consisted  of  the  cap- 
tains of  frigates,  the  French  Consul  and  his 
staff,  generals,  colonels,  and  other  officers  of 
Hayti.  Would  you  believe  that  great  num- 
bers of  persons  wished  to  give  them  break- 
fasts, and  could  not  ?  These  gentlemen  were 
always  engaged  by  one  or  another.  Le  Baron 
de  Lascase  gave  a  ball  to  the  Haytian  ladies ; 
never  has  any  thing  like  it  been  seen  in  Port- 
au-Prince.  The  company  was  the  captains 
of  frigates  and  brigs,  as  well  as  their  officers. 
Ah !  it  was  a  splendid  ball.  They  left,  the 
22d  of  March,  with  two  Haytian  missionaries, 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  V6 

who  have  gone  to  France  to  get  a  receipt  for 
the  money  which  has  been  given,  and  to  see 
to  the  ratification  of  the  treaty. 

"  The  Chamber  of  Representatives  is  open 
since  the  10th  of  April.  I  hope  they  will 
lower  the  duties,  and  that  will  give  us  a  more 
open  commerce,  and  be  a  great  advantage  to 
us.  The  President  made  a  fine  discourse  at 
the  opening  of  the  Chamber,  but  I  could  not 
get  it  to  send  it  to  you.  It  will  come  by  the 
next  opportunity.  I  assure  you  that  the  Baron 
de  Lascase  has  been  very  much  pleased  with 
the  Haytian  gentlemen.  They  left  Port-au- 
Prince  with  regret,  after  having  made  such 
pleasant  acquaintances.  May  God  keep  you, 
Sir,  in  his  holy  keeping !  It  is  not  we  who 
will  see  the  happiness  of  this  country,  but  our 
children  will.  If  they  behave  themselves  well, 
they  will  enjoy  the  happiness  which  has  been 
denied  to  their  ancestors." 

The  following  is  extracted  from  another 
letter  of  C.  Boyer :  — 

"Port-au-Prince,  June  13,  1842. 

"  My  dear  friend,  do  you  know  (unhappy 


94  MEMOIR   OF 

country !)  that  there  exists  no  longer  Cape  Hai- 
tien,  nor  Santiago,  nor  Port-au-Paix !  These 
.  three  cities  were  destroyed,  on  the  7th  of  May 
last,  by  an  earthquake.  While  I  speak  of  it, 
my  hair  stands  on  end.  Never  has  living  soul 
seen  such  a  terrible  earthquake.  Santiago, 
such  a  pretty  city,  so  well  built,  all  with  walls 
like  the  Cape,  all  houses  of  two  or  three 
stories  high,  all  has  been  thrown  down  in 
half  a  second.  At  the  Cape  not  a  house 
stands  upright.  The  trembling  lasted  for  five 
minutes,  rapidly,  with  great  force.  At  Go- 
naive  the  earth  opened,  and  a  clear  stream 
of  water  rushed  out.  At  the  same  time  a  fire 
broke  out  and  consumed  twenty  houses.  At 
Port-au-Paix  the  sea  rose  violently  nearly  five 
feet,  and  carried  off  the  rest  of  the  houses 
which  had  not  fallen.  At  the  Cape  six  thou- 
sand persons  have  been  killed  under  the  ruins, 
and  two  thousand  wounded.  At  St.  Domin- 
go all  the  houses  have  not  fallen ;  they  are, 
however,  nearly  all  shattered  and  uninhabita- 
ble. The  shock  was  much  more  violent  to- 
wards the  north  than  at  the  south ;  but  this 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  95 

gives  you  some  idea  of  what  has  taken  place 
in  this  poor  country.  It  happened  at  half 
past  five  in  the  evening.  This  country  is  now 
most  miserable." 

The  following  is  from  a  young  colored 
man:  — 

"  St.  Thomas,  1849. 

"  MY   DEAR    AND   VENERABLE    COMPATRIOT  : 

"  So  far  off  as  I  am  from  you,  I  think  of 
you  always.  I  wend  my  way  to  Franklin 
Street  at  least  once  a  day,  in  imagination, 
and  the  recollections  of  Boston  or  Lowell,  of 
New  York  or  Jersey  City,  never  leave  me. 
Yes,  the  Union  is  a  beautiful  thing  (belle 
chose),  and  the  United  States  is  a  beautiful 
country.  It  offers  something  much  more 
beautiful  than  other  countries.  It  is  its  love 
of  order,  of  work,  its  industry,  that  makes  it 
first  among  the  nations.  They  are  surprised 
in  the  Colonies  at  the  enthusiasm  with  which 
I  speak  of  the  United  States,  because  in  gen- 
eral the  men  of  our  race  here  suppose  that  all 
people  of  color  are  treated  like  cattle  there. 
I  wish  I  could  tell  you  something  satisfactory 


96  MEMOIR    OF 

of  our  country ;  but  this  gratification  is  a  long 
way  off.  If  there  is  not  bloodshed,  there  are 
deceptions,  iniquities,  the  same  bad  tenden- 
cies, —  terror  is  the  order  of  the  day." 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  letter 
•from  an  old  friend  of  Toussaint's.  It  may 
be  interesting  from  its  touch  of  humor. 

"  Chicago. 
"  MY  DEAR  OLD  COMPANION  :  — 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  your  horrible  win- 
ter has  neither  killed  you  nor  given  you  any 
serious  illness.  Thanks  to  your  regular  habits 
and  your  fervent  prayers,  you  are  still  in  good 
health,  and  I  hear  very  prosperous.  But  you 
are  still  a  negro.  You  may  indeed  change 
your  condition,  but  you  cannot  change  your 
complexion,  —  you  will  always  remain  black. 
Do  they  mistake  you  for  a  white  man,  that 
you  have  a  passport  everywhere  ?  No  ;  it 
is  because  you  perceive  and  follow  the  naked 
truth.  Many  think  that  a  black  skin  pre- 
vents us  from  seeing  and  understanding  good 
from  evil.  What  fools !  I  have  conversed 
with  you  at  night  when  it  was  dark,  and 


PIEHRE    TOITSSAINT.  97 

I  have  forgot  that  you  were  not  white.  The 
next  morning  when  I  saw  you,  I  said  to  my- 
self, Is  this  the  black  man  I  heard  talk  last 
night  ?  Courage  !  let  them  think  as  they 
please.  Continue  to  learn,  since  one  may 
learn  always,  and  communicate  your  wisdom* 
and  experience  to  those  who  need  it.  I  must 
now  write  to  you  about  the  ladies  here. 
They  are  great  coquettes,  go  with  their  heads 
well  dressed,  which  they  arrange  themselves 
with  great  taste.  Your  business  (hair-dress- 
ing) would  be  worth  nothing  here.  You 
must  not  come  to  this  place  to  make  your 
fortune  ;  it  would  be  a  bad  speculation." 

We  feel  as  if  we  had  hardly  done  justice  to 
the  constant  and  elevated  view  which  Tous- 
saint  took  of  his  responsibility  towards  his 
own  race.  He  never  forgot  that  his  color  sep- 
arated him  from  white  men,  and  always  spoke 
of  himself  as  a  negro.  He  sometimes  related 
little  anecdotes  arising  from  this  circumstance 
which  amused  him.  One  occurs  to  me  that 
made  him  laugh  heartily.  A  little  girl,  the 
child  of  a  lady  whom  he  often  visited,  came 
7 


98  MEMOIR   OF 

and  stood  before  him,  looking  him  steadily  in 
the  face,  and  said,  "  Toussaint,  do  you  live 
in  a  black  house  ?  " 

When  he  was  very  sick,  a  friend  who  was 
with  him  asked  him  if  she  should  close  a  win- 
dow, the  light  of  which  shone  full  in  his  face. 
"  O  non,  Madame,"  he  replied,  "  car  alors  je 
serai  trop  noir  "  ;  — "  O  no,  Madam,  for  then  I 
shall  be  too  black."  This  humorous  notice  of 
his  color,  without  the  slightest  want  of  self- 
respect,  was  entirely  in  keeping  with  his  char- 
acter. He  was  a  true  negro,  such  as  God  had 
made  him,  and  he  never  strove  to  be  any 
thing  else.  The  black  men  represented  as 
heroes  in  works  of  fiction  often  lose  their 
identity,  and  cease  to  interest  us  as  represent- 
atives of  their  race,  for  they  are  white  men  in 
all  but  color.  It  was  a  striking  trait  in  Tous- 
saint, that  he  wished  to  ennoble  his  brethren, 
by  making  them  feel  their  moral  responsibil- 
ity as  colored  men,  not  as  aping  the  customs, 
habits,  and  conversation  of  white  men.  He 
never  forgot  that  he  " lived  in  a  black  house" 
nor  wished  others  to  forget  it. 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  99 

For  many  years  Toussaint's  life  seems  to 
have  passed  unmarked  by  any  sorrows  which 
do  not  occur  to  every  one.  He  had  accumu- 
lated what  to  his  moderate  views  was  an  in- 
dependence, and  enabled  him  to  assist  others. 
Juliette's  mother  lived  with  them,  and  was 
supported  by  him  till  she  died.  He  had  no 
connections  of  his  own,  but  his  kindness  to  all 
who  needed  it  was  unceasing.  We  think  there 
are  many  who  will  recollect  this  period,  and 
the  cheerful  little  parlor  where  they  convened 
their  guests. 

One  of  their  social  parties  was  pleasantly 
described  to  me  by  a  white  American  ac- 
quaintance who  had  called  on  them,  and 
whom  Juliette  invited  with  a  companion  to 
visit  her.  They  belonged  to  the  household 
of  one  of  his  most  cherished  and  respected 
friends.  They  found  only  two  Frenchwomen 
as  guests  besides  themselves.  The  table  was 
most  neatly  and  handsomely  set  out,  with 
snowy  damask  table-cloth  and  napkins,  and 
exhibiting  many  of  the  elegant  little  memo- 
rials pertaining  to  the  tea-table  which  had 


100  MEMOIR   OF 

been  sent  them  as  presents  from  their  friends 
in  Paris.  Juliette  sat  at  the  head,  and  waited 
on  them,  treating  them  with  her  delicious 
French  chocolate,  but  of  which  she  did  not 
herself  partake.  When  they  had  finished  the 
repast,  they  went  into  the  contiguous  room, 
and  Toussaint  joined  the  party.  It  was  thus 
his  sense  of  propriety  led  him  to  draw  the 
line.  He  never  mingled  the  two  races.  This 
might  have  been  in  some  measure  the  result 
of  early  teaching,  but  there  was  evidently  a 
self-respect  in  avoiding  what  he  knew  was  un- 
welcome. 

We  find  a  letter  of  Toussaint  to  Juliette, 
which  we  insert :  — 

"  I  have  this  moment  received  your  letter, 
my  dear  wife,  and  I  answer  it  on  the  spot. 
Every  thing  goes  on  well  here.  I  have  a 
great  wish  to  see  you,  but  I  wish  much  more 
that  you  should  remain  as  long  as  you  are 
pleased  to  do  so,  for  I  love  my  wife  for  herself, 
not  for  myself.  If  you  are  amused  at  Balti- 
more, I  hope  you  will  remain  some  days  long- 
er with  your  good  friends.  I  thank  them  for 


PIERRE    TOT7SSAINT.  101 

having  received  you  so  kindly.  Present  my 
compliments  to  Miss  Fanny,  and  tell  her  that 
I  hope  she  will  not  set  you  too  many  bad  ex- 
amples. I  know  that,  though  she  is  very  de- 
vout, she  is  un  peu  mtchante.  I  hope  you  will 
bring  away  with  you  her  devotion,  but  not  her 
mechancete." 

There  was  often  something  sportive  and 
paternal  in  Toussaint's  manner  towards  his 
wife,  and  when  the  difference  in  their  ages 
was  understood,  it  was  easily  accounted  for. 
He  had  ransomed  her  when  she  was  fifteen, 
and  when  he  was  himself  in  his  thirty-seventh 
year.  They  were  most  truly  attached  to  each 
other.  "  Je  ne  donnerois  pas  ma  Juliette," 
said  he  to  one  of  his  French  friends,  "  pour 
toutes  les  dames  du  monde ;  elle  est  belle  a 
mes  yeux,"  —  "I  would  not  give  my  Juliette 
for  all  the  women  in  the  world ;  she  is  beau- 
tiful in  my  eyes." 

Both  of  them  enjoyed  excellent  health,  and 
probably  Toussaint  never  supposed  he  should 
be  the  survivor.  It  was  otherwise  ordered. 
Juliette's  health  began  to  fail,  and  some 


102  MEMOIR   OF 

alarming  symptoms  appeared.  As  in  Euphe- 
mia's  case,  he  was  sanguine  that  she  would 
recover.  He  said,  "  She  is  much  younger  than 
myself,  —  she  is  strong,  very  strong.  She  is 
nervous,  —  she  will  soon  be  better."  But  it 
became  evident  that  she  grew  more  ill,  and 
he  could  no  longer  shut  his  eyes  upon  her 
danger. 

"  I  often  went  to  see  Juliette,"  said  a  friend 
to  me.  "  Between  her  chamber  and  her  hus- 
band's there  was  a  small  room,  which  was 
fitted  up  with  a  crucifix,  a  prie-dieu,  and  many 
beautiful  emblems  of  the  Catholic  faith,  gifts 
to  Toussaint,  which  he  carefully  treasured. 
'  Ah,'  said  she,  '  he  prays  for  me  there,  —  it  is 
all  the  comfort  he  has  ;  he  will  soon  be  alone. 
Poor  Toussaint ! ' " 

When  her  death  came,  it  was  a  dreadful 
blow  to  him.  He  never  recovered  from  the 
shock.  It  seemed  to  him  most  strange  that 
she  should  go  first,  and  he  be  left  alone  ;  yet 
he  constantly  said,  "  It  is  the  will  of  God." 
Soon  after  her  death,  his  own  health  became 
impaired.  The  strong  man  grew  feeble ;  his 


PIERRE    TOtTSSAINT.  103 

step  slow  and  languid.  "We  all  saw  that 
Toussaint  was  changed.  Yet  he  lingered  on, 
daily  visiting  beloved  friends  who  sympathized 
in  his  great  loss,  and  still  continuing  his  works 
of  beneficence. 

We  have  adverted  to  the  gayety  and  play- 
fulness of  Toussaint.  They  often  met  an- 
swering sympathies  among  his  friends.  We 
extract  one  or  two  passages  from  the  let- 
ters of  a  lady  who  was  travelling  in  Europe, 
and  who  well  understood  these  traits  in  his 
character :  — 

"  1849. 

"  I  have  returned  from  church.  The  service 
was  performed  in  a  Catholic  chapel,  with  all 
the  insignia.  I  thought  of  my  dear  Tous- 
saint, and  send  my  love  to  him.  Tell  him  I 
think  of  him  very  often,  and  never  go  to  one 
of  the  churches  of  his  faith  without  remem- 
bering my  own  St.  Pierre,  and  nobody  has  a 
better  saint.  I  am  glad  to  hear  from  him 
and  his  good  Juliette." 

We  add  a  short  note  from  the  same 
lady :  — 


104  MEMOIR    OF 

"DEAR  TOUSSAINT  :  — 
"  I  go  to  the  Catholic  churches  all  over ; 
they  are  grand  and  ancient.  I  always  remem- 
ber my  own  St.  Pierre,  and  often  kneel  and 
pray  with  my  whole  heart.  Ah,  dear  Tous- 
saint,  God  is  everywhere  !  I  see  him  in 
your  Church,  in  mine,  in  the  broad  waste  and 
the  full  city.  May  we  meet  in  peace  and  joy. 
Ever  and  ever 

"  Your  true  friend." 

We  find  among  Toussaint's  papers  con- 
tinual proof  of  his  charitable  gifts  and  loans, 
and  of  his  efforts  to  discover  any  of  his  own 
family  who  might  yet  remain  in  St.  Domin- 
go, and  also  of  the  family  of  his  aunt,  Maria 
Boucman.  In  his  will  he  sets  aside  four  hun- 
dred dollars  to  be  paid  to  her  descendants  in 
case  they  can  be  found  within  two  years. 

His  health  was  now  evidently  failing,  yet 
morning  after  morning,  through  snow  and  ice 
and  wintry  frosts,  his  slow  and  tottering  step 
was  seen  on  his  way  to  Mass,  which  he  never 
once  failed  to  attend  for  sixty  years,  until  a  few 
months  before  his  death ;  and  later  in  the  day, 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  105 

nis  aged  frame,  bowed  with  years,  was  to  be 
seen  painfully  working  its  way  to  a  distant 
part  of  the  city,  on  errands  of  love  and  char- 
ity. A  friend  said  to  him  thoughtlessly, 
"  Toussaint,  do  get  into  an  omnibus."  He 
replied,  with  perfect  good  humor,  "  I  cannot, 
they  will  not  let  me." 

One  bitter  pang  remained  for  him;  to 
watch  by  the  death-bed  of  that  being  who, 
from  her  exalted  station,  had  poured  strength 
and  consolation  into  his  wounded  heart ;  who 
had  often  left  the  gay  circles  of  fashion  to 
speak  to  him  words  of  peace  and  kindness, 
and  who,  when  the  shadows  of  death  were 
coming  over  her,  gave  orders  that  Toussaint 
should  always  be  admitted.  Many  were  the 
fervent  and  silent  prayers  that  the  aged  man 
breathed  by  the  side  of  her  bed,  with  clasped 
hands  and  closed  lips. 

Toussaint  was  a  devoted  disciple  of  his 
Church  ;  her  books  of  instruction  were  his 
daily  food,  his  prayer-book  was  always  in  his 
pocket,  and  the  maxims  of  Thomas  a  Kem- 
pis  were  frequently  introduced  in  his  serious 


106  MEMOIR  OF 

conversation.  His  illustrations  were  often 
striking.  In  speaking  to  a  Protestant  friend 
of  the  worship  of  the  Virgin,  he  said,  turn- 
ing to  a  portrait  of  a  near  relation  of  hers 
in  the  room,  "  You  like  to  look  at  this :  it 
makes  you  think  of  her,  love  her  more  ;  try  to 
do  what  she  likes  you  to  do."  In  this  inter- 
esting manner  he  described  his  own  feelings 
towards  the  pictures  and  images  of  the  Vir- 
gin Mary. 

As  he  grew  more  feeble  he  was  obliged  to 
give  up  his  attendance  on  the  church.  This 
occasioned  him  some  depression.  One  of 
his  Protestant  friends  who  observed  it  said, 
"  Shall  I  ask  a  priest  to  come  and  see  you  ? 
Perhaps  you  wish  to  confess."  After  a  long 
pause  he  said,  "A  priest  is  but  a  man  ;  when 
I  am  at  confession,  I  confess  to  God ;  when  I 
stand  up,  I  see  a  man  before  me." 

His  simple  method  of  expressing  his  con- 
victions was  striking,  and  often  instructive. 
He  was  enlightened  in  his  own  faith,  not 
from  reading,  but  from  a  quick  perception  of 
the  truth. 


PIERRE     TOUSSAINT.  107 

A  lady  who  had  known  Toussaint  from  her 
childhood  wrote  a  letter  when  she  heard  of 
his  illness,  from  which  the  following  passages 
are  quoted :  — 

"  If  my  mother  were  living,  how  much  she 
could  tell  us  of  Toussaint !  But  unfortunately 
I  never  kept  notes  of  the  many  incidents  she 
used  to  relate  of  his  character ;  I  regret  it  sin- 
cerely now.  At  the  time  of  Euphemia's 
death  we  were  in  France,  but  most  deeply 
did  we  feel  for  him. 

"  When  we  returned  I  saw  him  constantly, 
and  began  to  comprehend  him,  which  I  never 
did  fully  before.  I  saw  how  uncommon,  how 
noble,  was  his  character.  It  is  the  whole 
which  strikes  me  when  thinking  of  him ;  his 
perfect  Christian  benevolence,  displaying  it- 
self not  alone  in  words,  but  in  daily  deeds ; 
his  entire  faith,  love,  and  charity ;  his  remark- 
able tact,  and  refinement  of  feeling;  his  just 
appreciation  of  those  around  him ;  his  per- 
fect good  taste  in  dress  and  furniture,  —  he 
did  not  like  any  thing  gaudy,  and  understood 
the  relative  fitness  of  things.  He  entertained 


108  MEMOIR    OF 

an  utter  aversion  to  all  vain  pride  and  as- 
sumption. He  spoke  of  a  lady  he  had  known 
in  poverty  who  was  suddenly  raised  to  wealth. 
She  urged  him  to  call  and  see  her.  He  was 
struck  with  the  evident  display  of  her  riches. 
She  talked  to  him  of  her  house,  her  furniture, 
her  equipages,  her  jewels,  her  dresses ;  she 
displayed  her  visiting  cards  with  fashionable 
names.  To  all  this  Toussaint  silently  listened. 
1  Well,'  said  she,  '  how  do  you  like  my  es- 
tablishment ? '  '  O  madam ! '  he  said,  *  does 
all  this  make  you  very  happy  ?  '  She  did  not 
answer ;  she  was  not  happy,  poor  woman ! 
She  was  poor  in  spirit ;  she  never  knew  the 
pleasure  of  making  others  happy. 

"  I  recollect  how  invariably  he  consulted  the 
dignity  of  others,  as  well  as  his  own.  A  lady 
was  staying  with  me,  and  being  a  Roman 
Catholic,  she  wished  to  go  to  St.  Peter's 
Church,  and  asked  Toussaint  for  a  seat  in 
his  pew,  on  Sunday  morning.  He  said, 
'  Certainly,  madam,  you  shall  be  accommo- 
dated.' I  went  with  her  to  Barclay  Street ; 
we  found  him  waiting  at  the  door.  He  con- 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  109 

ducted  her  to  Madame  Depau's  pew,  which 
was  vacant.  '  I  expected  to  sit  in  your  pew,' 
said  she.  '  No,  madam,'  he  replied,  '  it  would 
not  be  proper.'  Though  he  labored  under  the 
disadvantage  of  speaking  a  language  imper- 
fectly, it  being  late  before  he  became  famil- 
iarized with  English,  he  seemed  always  to 
say  just  what  was  proper,  and  what  any  one 
who  knew  him  would  expect  him  to  say. 
His  religion  was  fervent,  sincere,  and  made  a 
part  of  himself ;  it  was  never  laid  aside  for 
worldly  purposes.  You  must  not  think  from 
these  remarks  that  Toussaint  was  a  grave, 
solemn  man  ;  he  was  full  of  spirit  and  anima- 
tion, and  most  entertaining  in  his  little  nar- 
ratives. I  have  laughed  merrily  at  his  anec- 
dotes and  remarks,  and  when  my  sister  and 
I  were  girls,  he  used  to  dance  for  us  as  they 
danced  when  our  parents  were  young ;  and 
though  the  style  was  so  different,  his  atti- 
tudes were  easy  and  graceful.  Though  very 
discriminating,  and  meeting  with  amusing 
things  in  various  families,  he  was  careful  never 
to  repeat  what  passed  in  different  houses, 


110  MEMOIR  OF 

much  less  to  betray  the  slightest  confidence 
placed  in  him.  How  much  I  regret  that  I 
cannot  be  near  him  at  the  last !  but  I  have 
the  satisfaction  of  knowing  '  all  is  well.' " 

Many  other  touching  remembrances  might 
be  added.  One  French  lady  said :  "  He  dressed 
my  hair  for  my  first  communion ;  he  dressed 
it  for  my  wedding,  and  for  christenings,  for 
balls  and  parties ;  at  burials,  in  sickness  and 
in  trouble,  he  was  always  here." 

Another  said :  "  The  great  fire  of  1835 
changed  our  fortunes ;  the  first  person  who 
came  to  us  early  the  next  morning  was  Tous- 
saint,  to  proffer  his  services  and  sympathy." 

There  is  but  little  to  add  to  this  memorial. 
When  I  last  saw  Toussaint,  I  perceived  that 
his  days  were  numbered,  that  he  stood  on  the 
borders  of  the  infinite.  He  was  feeble,  but 
sitting  in  an  arm-chair,  clad  in  his  dressing- 
gown,  and  supported  by  pillows.  A  more 
perfect  representation  of  a  gentleman  I  have 
seldom  seen.  His  head  was  strewed  with 
the  "  blossoms  of  the  grave."  When  he  saw 
me  he  was  overcome  by  affecting  remem- 


PIERRE   TOUSSAINT.  Ill 

brances,  for  we  had  last  met  at  tne  funeral 
obsequies  of  the  friend  so  dear  to  him.  He 
trembled  with  emotion,  and  floods  of  tears 
fell  from  his  eyes.  "  It  is  all  so  changed !  so 
changed ! "  said  he,  "  so  lonely ! "  He  was  too 
weak  to  converse,  but  his  mind  was  filled 
with  images  of  the  past,  of  the  sweet  and 
noble  lady  to  whose  notes  we  are  indebted. 
The  next  day  I  saw  him  again,  and  took 
leave  of  him  to  see  him  no  more  in  this 
world.  It  was  with  deep  feeling  I  quitted 
his  house,  —  that  house  where  I  had  seen  the 
beings  he  dearly  loved  collected.  It  was  a 
bright  summer  morning,  the  last  of  May ;  the 
windows  were  open,  and  looked  into  the  little 
garden,  with  its  few  scattered  flowers.  There 
was  nobody  now  I  had  ever  seen  there,  but 
himself,  —  the  aged  solitary  man  ! 

I  left  the  city,  and  in  early  June  received 
notes  from  a  friend  who  had  visited  him  daily 
for  months.  From  these  I  transcribe. 

"  Toussaint  was  in  bed  to-day ;  he  says  it 
is  now  the  most  comfortable  place  for  him, 
or  as  he  expressed  it  in  French,  '  II  ne  peut 


112  MEMOIR  OF 

pas  etre  mieux.'  He  was  drowsy  and  indis- 
tinct, but  calm,  cheerful,  and  placid, — the 
expression  of  his  countenance  truly  religious. 
He  told  me  he  had  received  the  last  com- 
munion, for  which  he  had  been  earnest,  and 
mentioned  that  two  Sisters  of  Charity  had 
been  to  see  him,  and  prayed  with  him.  He 
speaks  of  the  excellent  care  he  receives,  —  of 
his  kind  nurse  (she  is  a  white  woman),  — and 
said,  'All  is  well.'  He  sent  me  away  when 
he  was  tired,  by  thanking  me." 

A  few  days  after,  I  received  the  following 
note :  — 

"  Excellent  Toussaint !  he  has  gone  to 
those  he  loved.  His  departure  took  place 
yesterday  at  twelve  o'clock,  without  pain  or 
suffering,  and  without  any  change  from  ex- 
treme feebleness.  I  saw  him  on  Sunday ;  he 
was  very  low,  and  neither  spoke  nor  noticed 
me. 

"  On  Monday,  when  I  entered,  he  had  re- 
vived a  little,  and  looking  up,  said,  '  Dieu 
avec  moi,'  — '  God  is  with  me.'  When  I 
asked  him  if  he  wanted  any  thing,  he  replied 


PIERRE    TOUSSAINT.  113 

with  a  smile,  '  Rien  sur  la  terre,'  — '  Nothing 
on  earth.' 

"  I  did  not  think  he  was  so  near  the  gates  of 
heaven ;  but  on  Thursday,  at  twelve  o'clock, 
his  spirit  was  released  from  its  load.  He 
has  put  off  his  sable  livery,  and  is  clothed  in 
white,  and  stands  with  '  palms  in  his  hands, 
among  the  multitude  of  nations  which  no 
man  can  number.'  How  much  I  shall  miss 
him  every  day,  for  I  saw  him  every  day,  — 
every  day ! " 

The  following  note  is  of  a  still  later  date : — 
"  I  went  to  town  on  Saturday,  to  attend 
Toussaint's  funeral.  High  Mass,  incense,  can- 
dles, rich  robes,  sad  and  solemn  music,  were 
there.  The  Church  gave  all  it  could  give,  to 
prince  or  noble.  The  priest,  his  friend,  Mr. 
Quin,  made  a  most  interesting  address.  He 
did  not  allude  to  his  color,  and  scarcely  to  his 
station  ;  it  seemed  as  if  his  virtues  as  a  man 
and  a  Christian  had  absorbed  all  other 
thoughts.  A  stranger  would  not  have  sus- 
pected that  a  black  man,  of  his  humble  call- 
ing, lay  in  the  midst  of  us.  He  said,  '  Though 


114  MEMOIR  OF 

no  relative  was  left  to  mourn  for  him,  yet 
many  present  would  feel  that  they  had  lost 
one  who  always  had  wise  counsel  for  the 
rich,  words  of  encouragement  for  the  poor, 
and  all  would  be  grateful  for  having  known 
him.' 

"  The  aid  he  had  given  to  the  late  Bishop 
Fenwick  of  Boston,  to  Father  Powers  of  our 
city,  to  all  the  Catholic  institutions,  was 
dwelt  upon  at  large.  How  much  I  have  learnt 
of  his  charitable  deeds,  which  I  had  never 
known  before !  Mr.  Quin  said,  '  There  were 
few  left  among  the  clergy  superior  to  nim  in 
devotion  and  zeal  for  the  Church  and  for  the 
glory  of  God ;  among  laymen,  none.' 

"  The  body  of  the  church  was  well  filled 
with  men,  women,  children,  nuns,  and  charity 
sisters ;  likewise  a  most  respectable  collection 
of  people  of  his  own  color,  all  in  mourning. 
Around  stood  many  of  the  white  race,  with 
their  eyes  glistening  with  emotion.  When 
Juliette  was  buried,  Toussaint  requested  that 
none  of  his  white  friends  would  follow  her 
remains ;  his  request  was  remembered  now, 


PIERRE    TOTJSSAINT.  115 

and  respected ;  they  stood  back  as  the  coffin 
was  borne  from  the  church,  but  when  lowered 
to  its  last  depository,  many  were  gathered 
round  his  grave." 

Thus  lived  and  died  Pierre  Toussaint ;  and 
of  him  it  may  be  truly  said,  in  the  quaint  lan- 
guage of  Thomas  Fuller,  an  old  English  di- 
vine, that  he  was  "  God's  image  carved  in 
ebony." 


APPENDIX. 


WE  insert  the  following  notices,  which  ap- 
peared, among  several  others,  after  the  death 
of  Toussaint,  as  they  prove  how  much  and 
how  universally  he  was  respected  and  appre- 
ciated. 

The  following  short  notice  of  him  appeared 
the  other  day  in  two  of  the  New  York  morn- 
ing papers:  — 

"  Pierre  Toussaint,  whose  funeral  will  take 
place  this  morning,  at  ten  o'clock,  from  St. 
Peter's  Church,  Barclay  Street,  was  born  in 
the  servitude  of  St.  Domingo,  and,  in  devoted 
attendance  upon  his  mistress  in  her  flight 
from  that  island,  arrived  in  this  city  in  1787. 
Here  the  former  dependent  became  the  sole 


118  APPENDIX. 

support  of  the  unfortunate  lady,  and  her 
most  disinterested  friend  until  her  death. 
The  occupation  of  ladies'  hair-dresser  gave 
him  admission  to  the  houses  of  the  influen- 
tial families  of  that  day,  and  his  good  man- 
ners, unusual  discrimination  of  character,  and 
high  sense  of  propriety  insured  him  the 
countenance,  courtesy,  and  esteem  of  all  to 
whom  he  was  admitted,  and  the  confidence 
and  friendship  of  many  to  whom  the  excel- 
lency of  his  life  and  character  was  more  inti- 
mately known.  All  knew  his  general  worth, 
but  few  were  acquainted  with  the  generous 
qualities  of  his  heart,  and  with  those  prin- 
ciples of  disinterested  and  genuine  kindness 
which  governed  his  daily  conduct.  His  char- 
ity was  of  the  efficient  character  which  did 
not  content  itself  with  a  present  relief  of 
pecuniary  aid,  but  which  required  time  and 
thought  by  day  and  by  night,  and  long  watch- 
fulness and  kind  attentions  at  the  bedside  of 
the  sick  and  the  departing.  Thus  goodness 
springing  from  refined  and  elevated  principle, 
and  from  a  sense  of  religious  duty,  which 
never  permitted  him  to  omit  a  most  scrupu- 
lous compliance  with  all  the  requirements  of 
his  faith,  formed  the  prominent  feature  of  his 
character,  and  made  his  life  a  constant  round 


APPENDIX.  119 

of  acts  of  kindness  and  sympathy.  By  such 
a  life,  governed  by  such  principles  of  integrity, 
charity,  and  religion,  Toussaint  secured  to 
himself  the  respect,  esteem,  and  friendship  of 
many  of  our  first  citizens ;  and  though  death 
has  made  the  circle  small  in  which  he  had 
moved,  there  are  yet  remaining  many  who  re- 
member his  excellence  and  worth  with  the 
kindest  appreciation. 

«  S." 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  notice 
that  appeared  in  the  New  York  Evening 
Post:  — 

"  UNCLE  TOM  NOT  AN  APOCRYPHAL  CHAR- 
ACTER.—  A  correspondent  suggests  to  us,  that 
the  aged  black  man,  Pierre  Toussaint,  who 
came  to  this  city  nearly  sixty  years  ago  from 
St.  Domingo,  and  last  week  closed  a  long, 
useful,  and  blameless  life,  might,  if  Mrs.  Stowe 
could  have  been  supposed  to  have  known 
him,  have  sat  as  the  original  of  the  portraiture 
to  which  she  gave  the  name  of  Uncle  Tom. 
Toussai,nt  is  spoken  of  by  all  who  knew  him 
as  a  man  of  the  warmest  and  most  active  be- 
nevolence, the  gentlest  temper,  and  the  most 
courteous  and  graceful,  yet  wholly  unassum- 
ing manners.  The  successive  pastors  of  St. 


120  APPENDIX. 

Peter's  Church  had  all  the  same  opinion  of 
him,  and  it  is  said  that,  when  the  present  pas- 
tor came  to  bury  him,  he  observed  that  he  had 
not  such  a  man  left  among  his  congregation. 
It  would  be  worth  the  while  of  any  one  who 
knew  him  well,  to  give  in  a  brief  memoir 
some  anecdotes  of  a  life  which  was,  through- 
out, so  shining  an  example  of  goodness 

"  It  is  related  of  a  gentleman,  formerly  of 
this  city,  distinguished  for  the  wit  and  point 
of  his  conversation,  that  he  was  one  day  talk- 
ing with  a  lady,  who  instanced  Hyde  de  Neu- 
ville  as  more  fully  illustrating  her  idea  of  a  per- 
fect gentleman  than  any  other  person  she  had 
known.  He  replied :  '  The  most  perfect  gentle- 
man I  have  ever  known  is  Pierre  Toussaint.' " 

The  following  is  part  of  a  notice  in  the 
Home  Journal,  which,  a  few  days  after,  pro- 
ceeded from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Henry  T.  Tucker- 
man: — 

"  Died  on  Thursday,  June  30th,  at  his  resi- 
dence in  this  city,  PIERRE  TOUSSAINT,  in  the 
eighty-seventh  year  of  his  age. 

"  We  cannot  allow  this  brief  announcement 
to  form  the  sole  record  of  one  whose  example 
is  a  higher  vindication  of  his  race,  or  rather  a 


APPENDIX.  121 

nobler  testimony  to  the  beauty  and  force  of 
character,  than  all  the  works  of  fiction  that 
studious  invention  ever  conceived.  Pierre 
Toussaint  for  more  than  sixty  years  has  been 
the  most  respected  and  beloved  negro  in 
New  York.  He  came  here  in  1787,  with  his 

mistress He  soon  began  to  exercise 

his  rare  talents  as  a  hair-dresser,  and  became 
indispensable  to  the  ladies  of  New  York,  and 
their  children.  A  very  few  of  the  brides,  whose 
tresses  he  so  daintily  arrayed,  yet  survive ;  and 
as  long  as  any  of  them  li ved,  Pierre  paid  them 
regular  visits,  and  was  always  certain  of  a 
kind  reception.  He  supported  his  beloved 
mistress,  not  only  in  comfort,  but  luxury,  when 
her  means  failed,  until  the  day  of  her  death. 
Meantime,  he  had  associated  himself  with  all 
the  best  families.  The  wives  and  daughters 
loved  to  listen  to  his  tropical  reminiscences,  or 
his  cheerful  comments  on  the  news  of  the  day, 
as  he  adorned  their  heads  for  the  evening  par- 
ty ;  and  the  children  delighted  to  put  them- 
selves under  his  kindly  hands  when  the  time 
came  for  a  hair-cutting.  Pierre  was  thus  busy 

from   morning  to   night After  the 

death  of  his  mistress  he  married,  and  was  en- 
abled to  purchase  a  very  good  house  in  Frank- 
lin Street.  He  retired  from  business  with  an 


122  APPENDIX. 

adequate  fortune,  and  thenceforth  devoted 
himself  to  social  and  benevolent  duty.  His 
relations  in  the  former  respect  were  threefold ; 
first,  to  his  cherished  lady  friends  and  their 
families,  whom  he  had  attended  in  youth,  and 
towards  whom  he  exhibited  a  disinterested 
and  loyal  attachment,  which  seemed  to  be- 
long to  a  past  age  or  a  different  country,  so 
unique  and  touching  was  its  manifestation ; 
second,  to  the  French  population  of  New 
York,  to  which  he  was  attached  by  early  as- 
sociation and  native  language ;  and  thirdly, 
to  his  own  race,  'the  mass  of  whom  were  so 
much  below  him  in  tone  of  character  and  po- 
sition, that  only  a  fraternal  sentiment  truly 
Christian  could  have  prompted  his  constant 
interest  in  their  welfare,  and  ready  sympathy 
in  their  pleasures  and  griefs.  By  these  so 
widely  different  classes  Pierre  was  both  re- 
spected and  beloved.  He  moved  among  them 
in  a  way  peculiarly  his  own.  He  possessed 
a  sense  of  the  appropriate,  a  self-respect, 
and  a  uniformity  of  demeanor,  which  amount- 
ed to  genius.  No  familiarity  ever  made  him 
forget  what  was  due  to  his  superiors,  and 
prosperity  and  reputation  never  hardened  his 
heart  towards  the  less  favored  of  his  own 
class. 


APPENDIX.  123 

"  For  sixty  years  he  attended  Mass  at  six  in 
the  morning,  as  punctual  as  a  clock,  until 
prostrated  by  illness.  His  days  and  nights 
were  given  to  visits,  ministrations  to  the  sick, 
attendance  upon  the  bereaved,  and  attempts 
to  reform  the  erring  and  console  the  afflicted. 

Often  strangers  paused  to  look  with 

curiosity  and  surprise  upon  the  singular  ta- 
bleau presented  in  Broadway  of  the  venerable 
negro,  with  both  his  hands  clasped  in  greeting 
by  a  lady  high  in  the  circles  of  fashion  or 
birth,  and  to  watch  the  vivid  interest  of  both, 
as  they  exchanged  inquiries  for  each  other's 
welfare. 

"  The  last  time  I  saw  Pierre,  he  was  seated 
among  a  group  of  mourners,  beside  the  coffin 
of  a  lady  venerated  for  years  in  the  highest 
social  sphere  of  the  city.  She  was  almost  the 
last  tie  that  bound  him  to  the  past.  He  had 
visited  her  daily  for  thirty  years,  and  brought 
his  offering  of  flowers  ;  and  there  he  sat,  with 
his  white  head  bowed  in  grief,  and  every  line 
of  his  honest  sable  face  wet  with  tears.  It 
was  a  beautiful  homage  to  worth,  —  a  beauti- 
ful instance  of  what  may  be  the  disinterested 
relation  between  the  exalted  and  the  hum- 
ble, —  when  the  genius  of  character  and  the 
sentiment  of  religion  bring  them  thus  to- 
gether. 


124  APPENDIX. 

"  Pierre  was  buried  in  the  Cathedral  church- 
yard, beside  his  wife  and  adopted  child ;  and 
his  funeral  was  attended  by  gentlemen  and 
menials,  his  death-bed  soothed  by  the  fair- 
est, as  well  as  venerated  by  the  most  humble 
representatives  of  the  wide  circle  included  in 
his  sympathies  and  attracted  by  his  worth. 
Peace  to  the  ashes  of  good,  noble,  loyal  Pierre 
Toussaint ! " 


THE   END. 


University  of  California  Library 
Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


31 


APR  1 8  ^995 
AH » ^  — 


DEC  01 1999 

RECDYRL.40V30'99 


L  005  277  501  2 


